


Kinktober Is My Kink

by BlueMeansStop



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Aftercare, All the fucking aftercare, Alphyne, Asphyxiation, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Caps Lock For Days, Cherryberry - Freeform, Choking, Crossdressing, Cuckolding, Deep Throating, Dirty Talk, Ectobodies, Ectogenitials, Edgeplay, Eye socket fucking, F/F, F/M, Face-Sitting, Fellcest - Freeform, Fontcest, Frottage, Gags, Hand Jobs, Horrorcest - Freeform, I like my smut consensual, Impact Play, Incest, Knife Play, Language, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Orgasm Denial, Pegging, Praise Kink, Puppyberry, Rough Sex, Safeword Use, Sanster, Skullfucking, Sounding, Spanking, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Sthenolagnia, Swapcest - Freeform, Titfucking, Vibrators, Wax Play, blackcherry, honeymustard - Freeform, kustard - Freeform, pain play, papayaberry - Freeform, papcest - Freeform, puns, rottenberry, sancest, sansby - Freeform, size play, slight dubcon, soul play, swapfellcest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-01-07 10:43:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 47,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12231246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMeansStop/pseuds/BlueMeansStop
Summary: Kink based one shots forthe month of Octoberwhenever. Please make sure to read the info at the beginning of each chapter for tags and warnings.





	1. Spanking – UTSans/UTPapyrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ho boi, this is a thing I’ve decided to tackle. The majority of these will be based around our skelebros and the three main AUs. There will be pairings galore, and a whole lot of Swapfell. The occasional Alphyne and random pairing will pop up, but yeah, it’s mostly skeletons. Sorry, there will be no reader/original character based fics here.
> 
> Due to an intense work schedule this past month, I haven’t been able to write enough of a surplus to stay ahead of Kinktober. I’ll do my best to post every other day, but I’m fairly certain I wont be able to keep up. That’s not going to deter me though, I shall finish this even if it takes me a few months!  
>  **WARNINGS:** Fontcest, ectobody, ectodick, language, little bit of dirty talk, food mention, puns.  
>  \---

It wasn’t Sans’ fault, really. Papyrus couldn’t blame his brother for his less than magnificent sense of patience, brought on by the not entirely unusual night of working on a new trap. He’d been dead set on sketching out the plans in full, building a breathtakingly accurate miniature replica (with working flames and real time water slide) and ensuring a perfect and flawless design, thus missing his designated break time. Or as Sans called it, sleeping. 

Normally he wouldn’t be bothered by such frivolousness and utter waste of valuable time, but Sans had been adamant about keeping a scheduled sleep cycle and Papyrus was a fan of schedules. He hadn’t realized how much he’d gotten used to it, until he missed it. He was still awake when the ceiling crystals brightened bringing about a new day and he yawned as he traipsed down the stairwell, heading for the kitchen to make breakfast. 

Tugging open the fridge door, he was met with a loud pop and shower of glitter and streams of paper in his face, startling him. Papyrus jumped back with a high pitched yelp, knocking over the carton of eggs he had been reaching for. They splattered across the floor and much to his irritation, his formally pristine boots. A sleepy chuckle echoed behind him as he picked a pink streamer from his eye socket and tried to get the taste of stale glitter out of his teeth.

Sans leaned into the kitchen, holding himself up by the doorframe and grinned. “wow pap, what an _eggs_ -plosive predicament ya got there.” He huffed and shuffled into the kitchen, plopping down into a chair. He barely made it before dropping his head atop of his crossed arms and yawned sleepily. “you're lookin’ a little _shell_ shocked.” 

“SANS!” Papyrus whirled around, a scolding already in the works and found his jaw drawing wider as he yawned in return. He gave a quick shake of his head to shake off the wooliness before refocusing. “THAT WAS A WASTE OF PERFECTLY GOOD FOOD.”

“heh. better than _egg_ on your face.” His smile widened at the groan as Pap turned around to gather the ruined carton, grimacing at the slimy mess as he scooped what he could back into the cardboard container and disposed of it in the trash. “guess the _yolks_ on you, bro. i don’t even like eggs.”

“SANS.”

“all right, i’ll put away the _eggs_ -cellent jokes before breakfast.” Sans missed the grumbled reply as he dug into his jacket, pulling out a packet of ketchup he kept for snacking emergencies and chewed on the edge of the plastic pouch, content to watch his brother clean up his little prank.

The morning had only been a precursor to an overall annoying day. Breakfast turned out to be more of a hassle, having run out of his favorite hot cereal treat and was reduced to munching on dry toast, ensuring Sans got out of the house on time before heading off to his own shift. Papyrus had fallen into an accidental snow puff trap dug by the Canine Unit and grumbled as he crawled out, scooping snow out of his uniform. He had torn his right glove, catching it on a pair of frozen gears he had been working on thawing before neatly slamming his phalanges in the hatch door. Sans hadn’t been any help, showing up with ill timed jokes, finding a niche to work in more egg related puns that no one else seemed to get. Papyrus fell for the buzzer gag, not once but three times as he distractedly worked through his traps.

Any other day, Pap enjoyed his brother’s lively antics, finding he preferred it when Sans wasn’t locked in his room all day. Today, however, every previously charming little thing rubbed him the wrong way. It really, really wasn’t Sans’ fault.

Sans skittered away laughing after a warning shout of, “BROTHER!” But was quick to return to cause more daily mischief that had his younger brother stamping his foot in frustration. All the while Sans seemed oblivious to the increasing tightness in Papyrus’ grin. The last straw was the ever brewing sock issue when they came home.

“SANS!” Papyrus’ voice felt strained, as if he’d been yelling all day and there was a dull pulse in the back of his skull he’d been ignoring for the last three hours. “PICK UP YOUR SOCK. THIS IS THE LAST TIME I ASK YOU.” Standing with a wooden spoon in his crossed arms, a spaghetti noodle dangling from the end, he glared across the living room to his couch potato of a brother.

Slouching low enough to make his own spine ache in sympathy, Sans threw a leg over an armrest and flipped the obnoxiously pink slipper on the ends of his metatarsals, the rhythmic muffled slap against his foot increasing the dull throb with each gentle sway. “you know i’m a real _sock_ -er for…” 

Papyrus didn’t hear the rest of the pun, his sigh loud enough to drown out his brother’s low voice. The wooden spoon clattered into the sink as the apron was yanked off his frame and wadded up in a tight ball to be tossed behind him as the taller skeleton marched across the span of the living room.

The determined stride pulled Sans’ attention upward, only to shrink back at the oddly placed scowl. “hey, uh, bro?”

“SANS,” Papyrus sighed. “I HAVE HAD IT UP TO HERE.” He drew his hand up to his face, hovering it just above his crown and he took minute pleasure in the slight flinch when he bent and gathered his brother in his arms. Flipping the smaller monster over his lap, he sunk down in Sans’ place with a light bounce and reached for the slipper that had fallen in the brief struggle. His other hand rested atop of Sans’ spine to hold him gently but firmly in place.

“IF YOU INSIST ON BEING SO CHILDISH THEN I WILL TREAT YOU THUS. AND CHILDREN…” He raised the slipper, aiming for the squirming skeleton on his lap. “GET SPANKINGS.” And brought the flat sole down on his brother’s covered tailbone.

Sans yelped, arching underneath the light swat. It hadn’t hurt at all, his clothing giving more than enough bulk to absorb the floppy, thin slipper but the oddly loving intent behind it sent a shock up his spine. “pap,” he grunted, gripping a knee that had been pressing into his sternum and struggled to lift himself up only to receive another swat.

“PICK. UP. YOUR. SOCK.” Each sharp word was punctuated with a following smack, growing bolder with each downward strike until the last one left his bones tingling. His magic reacted, awakening embarrassingly fast and Sans couldn’t stop it from filling out his shorts with simple rounded shapes along his thighs and bottom. When the next smack resounded a little louder than normal, only then did Papyrus start and realize what he had done.

“BROTHER!” He dropped the slipper and grabbed at the blue jacket, horrified at his actions. “OH, OH BROTHER, I’M SORRY, I WASN’T THINKING. ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?!” 

“f-fine, bro.” Sans stuttered, struggling to reassure Papyrus even as sweat slicked his brow and his soul thumped in his ribcage. His breath came out ragged, catching when the hand on his spine moved downward to rub in what he assumed to be a soothing gesture and paused at the give of ectoflesh.

Silenced waned between them as Papyrus took note of the rather obvious bulge pressing into his knees. “Brother,” he muttered, voice uncharacteristically quiet.

Sans buried his bright blue face in his hands, giving up on trying to scramble away. “i’m sorry,” he pleaded, “i’m sorry.”

“Do you…” There was a shy curious inflection to his voice, “like this?” His hand drifted minutely along the curve of a rather luscious bottom, his thumb kneading small, light circles. He hadn’t known Sans could form this rather, soft squishy yet strangely enjoyable part.

“i’m sorry, you were just, and then the slipper, it was kinda hot.” Sans sagged like a boneless skeleton, the ensuing silence suffocating and he mumbled, “m’sorry.”

“How sorry are you really?”

The cool, eerily calm, bordering on an entirely too read into, seductive tone took him by surprise and it went straight to his cock as Sans lifted his head briefly. “p-pap?”

His brother gave no warning as he lifted the previously still palm just enough to bring it down in a light and rich sounding smack to his clothed bottom. Sans lunged forward by the surprising impact, jarring him across the boney legs just tall enough to keep his feet from getting any real purchase. The hand immediately steadied him, pressing firmly along his lower back.

“papyrus!” Sans sputtered.

“Yes,” he purred back.

Whatever rebuttal died in a hitched surprised cry when Papyrus caught him a second time, a calculated fraction harder and he had to grit his teeth to stop any sound from slipping free. The third had him gasping, grabbing at smooth bone, fingers wrapping around a deceptively strong fibula. The hand holding him steadily trailed teasingly along clothed ribs, distracting him in a ticklish way before the fourth came down the hardest with enough force to feel his ectoflesh ripple. A low moan ripped itself from him and he arched up, grinding his hips down. Shit, he was hard.

The soft, soothing brush of gloved phalanges rub and soothe away the sting, curving around the enjoyable shape, innocently sweeping further down. The movement at odds with the genuine concern of Papyrus. “Are you all right, brother?”

“y-yeah.”

“Good.” The switch startled him again and Sans would later admit, he liked the darker shade that painted his brother’s unusually husky tone. “Because you’ve been a naughty boy all day, and deserve quite a few more of these.” Papyrus followed with several quick light blows with the flat of his palm. Each one rocked Sans further along his brother’s knees in delicious, frustrating friction.

Sans buried his face in his hands, smothering the whimpers that squeak out of him with every shaky exhale. Only when he started mumbling did Papyrus still, allowing Sans to lift his head, an azure blush coating his round, flushed cheeks. “g-guess this is a brand _spankin’_ new thing for both of us, huh.”

There was a moment of absolute silence.

Papyrus sighed and Sans could hear the annoyance in the unnecessary exhale, one of utter resignation. “I’m going to spank you for real if you keep that up.” 

“promise?” he returned cheekily.

His hand came down sharply with a ringing smack.

“fuck!”

“Yes.”


	2. Dirty Talk – SFSans/SFPapyrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My favorite trash babies. You’ll see a lot of these two throughout the month, so a heads up on that. Please, no Swapfell/Fellswap discourse.  
>  **WARNINGS:** Swapfellcest, ectodick, masturbation, language, my best attempt at dirty talking.

It had been an abnormally long day for Sans and he was all too ready to see the ceiling crystals fade, signifying another day managed. He traipsed through the recent snowfall, dragging boots in the heavy drift through town, grumbling to himself. As per usual, the Bunny Squad had been their usual difficult selves and he would have sent a serrated femur straight through Ginger’s head if her sister Pepper hadn’t intervened by dragging her away to finish their rounds. He growled watching their retreating forms and really, really contemplated how hard up they were for a new member. If that wasn’t bad enough, the Dogi shopkeepers still didn’t have his favorite drink when he went on break for the third week in a row. However, the nail in the coffin was trying to round up a wild outcropping of the crazed yellow Floweys. He had nearly been tripped up in their roots, shrill voices threatening to devour him in annoying singsongy melodies. Crushing one under his boot did little to quell his annoyance.

Sans just wanted to come home, shower and go to bed. 

Stomping home, he relished in the fact Papyrus was working a second shift to make up what he missed last week and wouldn’t be back till morning. Perfect. It’d give him some peace and quiet for once. Sans was hardly worried about his dog, the mutt was more than capable of looking after himself.

Mimicking the perfect manifestation of an angry, black rain cloud, the smoldering ire of his agitated magic was enough to deter any monster from even thinking of going near him. He made his way through the main street, snow piling up on his scooped pauldrons as he stalked toward the single house at the far end of town. He permitted a flicker of relief in his eye lights as he stomped up the steps, kicking off the last dredges of dirty snow and let himself in. Closing the door silently behind him, he pressed a hip against it to lean down to unbuckle one of his boots when he heard the first murmur and gasp.

Straightening, he caught sight of his brother sprawled out on the couch. He wore his jacket despite the warmth of their home and it had slid off one shoulder as if he intended to shed it at one time. The hood was pushed back creating a cushioned pillow for his skull as he slouched heavily. One hand rested just above his floating ribs, tucking the loose knit orange sweater up to expose the length of his spine as he tugged almost painfully on a scarred rib. Long legs splayed out gave him an unimpeded access to his unzipped pants and Sans caught the fleeting glow of orange as his hand slid up and down the impressive length. Papyrus sighed, lost in the moment as he let his sockets close and his hands wandered.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

Papyrus nearly ripped his dick off, his hand instantly clamping down as he jumped in surprise. He bolted forward, hunching instinctively to cover his most vunulerable area, instinctively dropping at familiar voice. “m’lord,” he stuttered uselessly as a knee sank to the carpet, “i, uh, i.”

Unphased by his dog’s habits; though that was going to earn him a punishment as he was not allowed to do that on the couch, Sans stalked across the great room toward his brother and enjoyed the submissive stance. “WHY ARE YOU HOME?” he demanded.

“traded my shift with pepper,” came the instant reply as Papyrus kept his gaze downcast, hands still unsuccessfully covering himself.

Her again. No wonder she seemed intent to stay on Sans’ good side earlier. Annoying twit, the lot of them. Sans eyed Papyrus flushed look, unable to banish the precious tint of tangerine on cheekbones nor his arousal as evident by the delightful guilt that kept his mutt cowed. He may have been tired, but Sans wasn’t about to let his scoundrel of a brother slink away in shame.

“SIT.” 

At the command Papyrus obediently shifted to sit on the edge of the couch, moving to tuck himself somewhat painfully back into his pants and was rewarded with the press of a boot against the tender magic. He tensed immediately though only to still himself from rubbing unconsciously against the pointed toe.

“DID I TELL YOU TO STOP?”

“no, m’lord.”

“SPREAD YOUR LEGS.” Hesitating got a rough nudge and his legs fell open and Papyrus scooted until the back of his knees touched the couch. Sans shoved his boot into the open space for balance and leaned an elbow on a knee to bring him minutely closer, his skull a schooled mask of disinterest. “CONTINUE.”

Cautiously, Papyrus lofted his hazy eye lights to meet the steely, ice blue and they narrowed in brief annoyance back at him. He got another upward tap of impatience, this time promising pain if he didn’t comply. Carefully he gripped himself as best he could before finding he couldn’t maintain his gaze, dropping his head at the heated glare of his brother. The thrill of shame bloomed in his chest like a weighted stone, dragging his gaze further down to his member throbbing in his loose grip. This wasn’t their playroom, a room devoted to their more unconventional needs. Though it wasn’t something that was brought up or cared about in the public eye, he and Sans had maintained a strictly platonic relationship outside of their home. Even here, this was taboo, which was the very reason he had decided to have a little personal time. Something he could give himself without rules or judgment. Of course he hadn’t been expecting Sans to be home at the time.

“I’M. WAITING.”

He didn’t need a second command, finding the heat that had been building within his bones had never really faded. The shame bleed into the heat, making his slow rhythm stutter as magic dribbled from the tip, slicking his already sticky hand. The flush deepened along his sharp cheekbones and he leaned further back, letting the tension seep from his bones as he concentrated on the tingling heat growing steadily.

“FILTHY DOG,” Sans sneered and noted the heavy droop of lidded sockets. “IS THIS WHAT YOU DO WHEN I’M NOT HERE? RUTTING INTO YOUR HAND LIKE A DISGUSTING ANIMAL.”

Papyrus only sighed loudly, his world slowly tunneling to focus on the pleasure and jolted when he felt a gloved claw catch the tip of his cock, sweeping dangerously along the top.

“YOU’RE LEAKING.” An amused smirk graced his lord’s skull. “DON’T SPILL A DROP OR I’LL BE CROSS, MUTT.”

His eye lights guttered as the sockets closed, shuddering lightly at the name.

“WHO WERE YOU THINKING OF BEFORE?”

“b-before?” His voice sounded tiny, distracted.

What a time to play coy. Sans pressed his boot upward, earning a hiss and buck of hips.

“you!”

“AND NOW?”

“you,” Papyrus gasped out. “only you.”

Sans ran a hand down his femur, tracing the delicate structure and enjoyed the texture of leather against bone. “HOW SO?” he purred.

“a-atop of me, mmm, ride-,” Papyrus grunted roughly, “riding me.” Sockets cracked open to look up at the source of his fantasy and was treated with flushed, pristine beautiful bones, the light caress of weathered leather a faint sound to the slick sounds of his cock. His gaze followed greedily upward to the returned gaze and was met with a sharp intensity. “you feel so good, so tight.”

Hooded eye lights glowed brightly with rousing magic, softening the icy blue a fraction and his voice dipped a fraction. “TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT.”

“you,” Papyrus whispered, growing bolder. “clenching around my cock.”

Dragging a hand up his leg, Sans rubbed a thumb against the tantalizing sliver of iliac crest that peeked just above the waist of his uniform before dipping lower, traveling between his legs. He swayed forward against it, teasingly. “TELL ME HOW BADLY YOU WANT TO FUCK ME.”

His cock jumped in his hand, the rare curse slipping so freely from his little lord was turning him on even more. “i want you, hnngh, to cum on my cock, scream my name.” He growled. “make you mine. “

“YOU’D LIKE THAT, WOULDN’T YOU. BEND ME TO YOUR WILL?” 

The beautiful images of his haughty lord, pliant and willing, had Papyrus whining, losing the harsh edge to his tone as he gave in and stroked himself faster. He was getting close.

There was no ignoring the deeper blue flush. “WHAT WOULD THE NEIGHBORS THINK?” He leaned forward and dropped his voice, giving a staged breathless gasp, “Oh Papy.”

Papyrus clenched his teeth, “fuck,” he hissed. That damn nickname got him every time and that voice. He was so fucked.

Sans quickened his breath, ignoring the real blush on his cheeks. “So thick,” he moaned and as if it was possible, Papyrus sped up even more, “filling me up, stretching me out. Can you feel me, Papy? You’re so big.” The devious smirk toyed at his mouth. “Fuck me harder, make me cum.”

With a hoarse shout, Papyrus tensed as he came, a hand only briefly coming up to stop himself from spilling on the furniture, coating the front of his shirt and jacket. Any trace of shame gone as he shuddered through his orgasm, gasping for air and feeling nothing but giddy and lightheaded.

With a smug grin, Sans straightened and set his hands on his hips, giving his brother a moment to collect himself. “CLEAN YOURSELF UP, I’M NOT DONE WITH YOU.” 

Papyrus rolled his head up, a stupid grin falling into place. “yes, m’lord.”


	3. Sthenolagnia – UTUndyne/UTAlphys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s my adorable girlfriends, gimmie dat Alphyne goodness. Not going to lie, I had to look up sthenolagnia and it’s the hots for muscles and strength. I knew I had to write this for Undyne, it’d be a disgrace if I didn’t. I probably didn’t take this as seriously as I did other kinks but I wanted to have fun with this.  
>  **WARNINGS:** That gay shit.

The jangle of keys at the front door sounded horrifying loud in Alphys’ ears as she pushed the front door of her girlfriend’s house open, the hinge creaking slowly and she peeked her snout through. “Undyne?” she called warily into the open house, pocketing the overflowing keychain of cute little anime figures and adorable squishies. After the seventh attempt at knocking, awkwardly waiting and a slowly growing panic attack, the yellow monster decided to brave the awkwardness of explaining why she’d walked in without being invited. Still, she paused in the doorway, toeing the line of the entrance and peered around the entryway. Claws griped the handle of the newly refinished door; it still had the tacky smell of varnish, and tapped nervously against metal.

“Back here, babe!” Undyne’s voice floated from the back of the house and over the faint sound of a radio playing classical music.

“Oh thank Asgore,” Alphys muttered and wiped her bro. Closing the door tightly behind her, she made it was double locked. She spared a glance at the weapons sitting out in the living room, all in different stages of being cleaned by the state of grungy newspaper under it. She headed in the direction where Undyne’s voice had originated from, passing by a cabinet of action figures from various movies and television shows and a bookcase of a growing collection of manga and anime. The surface world had provided so much more than Alphys or Undyne could have ever dreamed for.

The music led Alphys toward Undyne’s spare bedroom turned workout gym like a mythical siren and she immediately stumbled over a set of dumbbells in the way. She caught herself before she could really fall and grumbled as she fixed her skewed glasses, adjusting the magic that helped keep them in place before looking up. She could barely contain the ill placed shriek and slapped a hand over her face, knocking her glasses again. “U-undyne, put a shirt on!”

“I have one on?”

Alphys spared a peek at the confused tone and was instantly captivated by the sleek shimmer of blue scales stretched across a bicep that popped against the dark black muscle tee Undyne had ripped up to accommodate her gills and fins. She wasn’t sure how much been cut off along her torso as it rode high up along the fish monster’s ribs. “Put, m-more of a shirt on.”

“Never!” Undyne cackled, “How can I contain these magnificent weapons?!” She immediately flexed to prove her point.

Alphys couldn’t stop herself ogling the shift of her back as she twisted to show off her figure barely contained by the flimsy material. She was certain Undyne was one good flex away from being shirtless. Alphys certainly was. Dropping her gaze granted her the deltoids of a goddess with Undyne’s shorts not fairing any better. The yellow monster spaced out as she watched her girlfriend bend, gracing her with a much better view as she picked up a set of a weights that, by her calculation, had to be have been several hundred pounds by the curve in the middle bar. A muscle twitched in the extended forearm as the aquatic woman easily carried it across the room to set it back in its rack with a light shudder. The casual display of strength had Alphys dabbing her brow with a pink and yellow starry handkerchief she pulled from the front of her blouse.

Undyne rolled her neck slowly, easing the tension there, following with her shoulders and arched her spine gracefully and reached up and over her head to help alleviate anything from locking up. Sweat beaded her brow, rolling down her temple and jaw to add to her already soaked shirt, plastering the thin material to her skin. She was half tempted to peel the entire thing off and whip it at her girlfriend, but ultimately didn’t want to have to worry about her self-destructing. This was just enough to tease.

Mesmerized by the sheer strength and beauty contained in the sleek, muscular figure, Alphys timidly stepped closer, worrying her handkerchief between her claws to keep them busy. When Undyne whirled around, it took Al an agonizing long moment to realize she had been eye humping her girlfriend and had the grace to look away, making Undyne raise a brow questioningly.

“Check it out.” Undyne slapped a hand across her stomach, claws resting just above her navel. “You could use these abs as a washboard. Go ahead, touch them.”

“I c-couldn’t.” Handkerchief forgotten, it fluttered to the floor in a last ditch white flag plea and Alphys reached out, only to catch herself. She nervously drew back.

“Nah, go ahead. Feel how tight I am.” Taking the brash initiative, Undyne grabbed Alphys’ smaller hand and tugged her forward to slap the yellow palm against her abdomen. She not too gently moved it up and down, allowing her girlfriend to get the full real experience of her superior abdomen.

Alphys blushed deeply, a golden hue coating her cheeks and spiked helm and she instinctively struggled to move way, the iron clad but oh so gentle grip, holding her still. _Oh no,_ she thought, with grave earnest _. I’m so gay_. Her other hand followed and Undyne smirked as she traced the contours of her torso, following the sharp planes of perfectly toned muscles, feeling how they moved with each breath. She traced a claw down the middle where the blue of her torso lightened ever so slightly, the scales becoming less distinct and a thumbed the indentation of her navel. The muscled jumped at the ticklish contact.

“Wow,” she breathed, enraptured by the smooth feel of skin and trailed her hands down and outward to the thick thighs and back up again, following the V shape of her hips down to-- “Oh!” Alphys tore her hands away, as if she had been burned. “Oh gosh, I’m so s-sorry. I don’t know w-w-what I was thinking.”

Undyne huffed amusedly. “What are you sorry about? I’m ripped! Of course you’d want to get up and personal,” she leaned forward, dropping her voice. “with these killer muscles.”

Alphys was instantly flustered, proving her right and Undyne chuckled good naturedly before trailing a claw along the side of her head. The pretty skirt she had donned, a black and white checkerboard pattern, swished quietly as Alphys shuffled her legs closed. The cherry red claw, nail polish chipped and faded, followed the spiked helm of her brow, something Undyne admired. On more than one occasion, she had stated Alphys could headbutt an attacker and never feel it. She trailed the claw down her cheek and jawline, pressing under her chin to lift it stubbornly.

“Alphie.”

The yellow monster hummed distantly, eyelids hooded.

“Your gay is showing.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss to her snout.

The blush returned full force and with back up, gold blooming into ruby hues. Suddenly, she was swept effortlessly into awaiting arms. They squeezed around her middle, holding securely before she was swung around. Alphys naturally clung back, but knew there was never a risk of being dropped. Not with the strength of those arms, holding her so delicate and carefully. The arms of the royal guard, arms that have protected and served the king for decades, arms that held her down, trapping her in a sweet embrace and holding her still while Undyne trailed a slick tongue down… Alphys shuddered at the memory and the flutter in her belly.

It took a moment to realize she was no longer being spun around, Undyne having taken a seat on the nearby workout bench to nuzzle her in her lap. “Undyne?”

“Yeah, babe?” She dipped her head, dragging her tongue along the curve of Alphys’ neck, enjoying the tremor that followed as she shifted her girlfriend to straddle her better, effectively nudging her skirt up to a scandalously bared knee. 

The shift and nudge had her clutching at Undyne’s biceps distractedly. “I hope I didn’t inter-r-rupt your workout.”

“Nah. You came just at the right time.” 

“O-oh?”

“Yeah,” she returned softly and trailed her lips along a spike, nipping it lightly and earned another shudder and adorable snort. Fingers kneaded along hips to bring Alphys flush against her. “You missed the warm up, but I know the perfect way to work up a real sweat.” Carding a hand up to cradle the back of her head, Undyne captured Alphys in a swift dominant kiss that had her bending backwards, swallowing every little sound she coaxed forth.

Only when Alphys started squirming did she break away, leaving the yellow monster panting, fogged glasses knocked sideways. She stared back dazedly, lovingly, making Undyne lean in for another kiss, wanting to taste her again and a hand slid up her skirt.

“W-wait.” Alphys dropped a hand atop of Undyne’s to keep it there, indicating she didn’t want to stop. She took a quick breath. “C-can we do it on the elliptical?”

Undyne blinked and a large massive, predatory grin fell into place. “Oh, hell yeah!”


	4. Begging – SFSans/UFSans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know this pairing name, BlackCherry maybe? I need charts to keep up with my fleet of ships. I am not apart of the BDSM community and though I’ve done some reading and a lot of research in various subjects, please don’t take my writing as an example of the community. If you are at all interested in one of the kinks I write about, please look into them properly and never forget the guideline SSC (Safe, sane and consensual). Remember these are fictional; and possibly inaccurate, stories about skeletons with magical genitals.  
>  **WARNINGS:** Implied fellcest and swapfellcest, ectobody, ectodicks, bondage, impact play, asphyxiation/choking, eye socket fucking, it gets a little rough in some areas but it’s all consensual, language, aftercare. Aftercare isn’t a warning, but felt I needed to add it in. Always take care of your sub.

Kneeling bare on the carpeted floor, Red shifted his precarious balance. It was a bit of an awkward shuffle with his hands bound behind him, fingers curling in the small of his back, jangling the length of chain that trailed down to the spreader bar between his knees. The bedroom was dark, quiet but not silent, the faint whisper of music played from a salvaged zune he’d found in the dump years ago. It was background noise to the excited magic buzzing in his bones, anyways. There was the smell of candles in the warm air, scented with faint spices, giving the atmosphere a pleasant feel. Something he could find himself relaxing to if he wasn’t so tied up. _Heh_. He’d been sitting there for a while, his lover leaving him to stew quietly and his left foot had slowly gone to sleep. Red shifted again and nearly lost his balance.

Something dropped lightly atop of his bare clavicle and he didn’t need to look to know it was the tip of a riding crop as it trailed along his scapula, pressing between the ridges of his cervical spine before gliding to the other shoulder. It gave a light, barely there tap. That wasn’t going to do it for him, it wasn’t what they agreed on.

“give it to me, ya fucker,” he grunted, twisted his head to meet his alternate as Razz stepped around him.

Dressed in simple black leather, similar to his guard uniform, high heeled boots with his ever present blue scarf tied loosely around his neck, Razz griped the riding crop in gloved hands, leather creaking under the low pressure. The cold blue of his eye lights narrowed briefly, displeasure evident in his gaze. “YOU’RE NOT VERY GOOD AT THIS BEGGING, WHELP.”

The riding crop snapped out, short of actually striking the ivory skull and to his satisfaction, Red didn’t flinch even when he pressed the weathered keeper under his mandible, forcing him to meet his gaze and he sneered haughtily at the defiance in the red glow.

“guess ya outta punish me, then.”

Razz flicked the crop away, taking a moment to study the monster before slowly circling, the whisper of carpet the only sound as he stalked silently. Crimson eye lights watched warily until Razz popped him on the back of the head with a flick of the crop and he ducked slightly.

“what the fuck?!”

“SAFEWORD?” He demanded. 

“what? oh, yeah, i got it.” Red received another insistent tap again and he twisted to try and glare at his alternate, grumbling instead. “uh, tomato. happy?”

“GOOD.” Razz managed to sound genuinely pleased. “NOW, MAKE SOMETHING USEFUL FOR ONCE.”

With a huff and roll of his eye lights, Red concentrated long enough to let his magic fill out his figure, giving himself rounded thighs, a general torso that came up to his lower ribs and one sweet looking ass, if he didn’t say so himself. His magic ended just above the spreader bar at his kneecaps.

Razz hummed approvingly and dragged a hand under Red’s chin from behind, tightening to tilt him back against him. “NORMALLY I WOULD PUT THAT ANNOYING MOUTH OF YOURS TO USE, BUT YOUR BROTHER INSISTED YOU REQUIRED A LITTLE MORE TO SHUT YOU UP.”

“heh, good luck with that, sweetheart.”

“WE’LL SEE.” The normally cool tone took on a darker edge, almost threatening and Red couldn’t help the delicious shiver that ran down his spine at the promises behind it.

With little warning, Razz snapped the riding crop down, catching across Red’s bottom. He jerked forward out of instinct and eye sockets flared when he tottered forward, unable to stop himself. The panicked realization he was going to topple face forward on his bedroom floor was cut short by the hand on the back of his collar, the surprised yelp chocked off mid breath. His eyes rolled back at the sharp pressure and sudden pain that accompanies a brief sense of light headedness before he was pushed back and properly balanced once more. His eye lights already gone hazy when he looked up at Razz smirking at him.

Circling to his front, Razz trailed the riding crop over the sore mark, tapping lightly to prolong the light burn and sting, making sure Red knew it was coming as he brought the crop up again. Red tensed and the other moved quickly, instead dipping down to shove his tongue into Red’s parted mouth, nearly bending him backwards with the force. He got a surprised grunt before Red pushed back, curling his own talented tongue around the sweeter one with a low growl. Sharpened teeth threaten to bite back, scraping against his golden tooth and the sound sent a jarring shiver up his spine. Razz easily overpowered him, despite being on the smaller side and broke the kiss, rocking back on his heels to watch smugly as Red panted, ribs expanding with each breath. Another smack to his ass jolted him forward to lean against Razz.

“MMM THAT’S A GOOD BOY.”

Red could feel Razz pressing up against his sternum, even through those scandalously small shorts. Before he could bring attention to it, another round of light taps across the already hot, bruised magic made him grunt quietly in an attempt to quell any notion of how worked up he’d gotten.

Razz clucked his tongue. “EAGER AREN’T WE?” Despite being the one in control, the faint blush of ice blue hadn’t been missed. Gripping the back of Red’s skull, he bucked against him, letting the confined length grind against his cheek with a rough push, forcing him to nuzzle him.

Red was rewarded with another merciless snap of the crop high on his bottom and Razz could feel the other tensing to push away. He couldn’t gain proper traction without shoving his face further into the leather clad pelvis. Razz made sure to give a slow languid roll of his hips before pushing Red back, grabbing the front of his collar to keep him steady. Quick little tugs kept the monster tottering on knees, phalanges scrambling helplessly for any purchase against his back. The cuffs rattled loudly, clanking against the spreader bar. There was an imaginary swallow against the fingers pressing against his cervical spine and he wheezed in spite of himself when the hand slipped away.

He withheld a groan at the sight of the shorts being unzipped, a sway of hips as they were tugged down to expose more ivory bone and a thick blue cock jutted proudly in his face. Razz gave a few teasing strokes down with the length, observing the flush of crimson and the flash of a tongue catching the line of salvia that slipped down a gold fang. 

“looks like i ain’t the only eager one here.” Red’s tongue slipped out to taste the glowing member and received a light open palm smack to his face, just enough to sting. It was a simple warning and Red obliged with a huff of breath, closing his mouth.

Smoothing a gloved thumb over the head of his cock, gathering the translucent bead from the tip, Razz smeared it across Red’s teeth before thumbing his right eye socket, making sure the other understand exactly what was going to happen. His magic stirred appreciatively and a low, guttural whine slipped free.

“ALL THOSE PRETTY SOUNDS AND I HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING YET.”

Tucking the riding crop under his arm, Razz guided his cock toward the socket, other hand resting lightly atop of Red’s skull and fingers curled warningly to stay still. At the first gentle push, the give of magic created a light pressure, a film he continually pressed against and Red panted underneath him, struggling to hold still. Magic tended to be finicky, it didn’t appreciate being warped and prodded at and the faint discomfort Red felt paled in comparison to the feel of the throbbing magic against a sensitive part of him, adding to the electricity in his bones.

Razz carefully dipped the head of his cock into the eye socket, the thin transparent film of magic molding against the tip and was immediately met with a luscious moan and blissed hazy, red eye light staring up at him. He slipped out, trailing the weeping head along the rim, leaving behind a slick trail before dipping back in slow, easy, teasing movements.

“fuck, yes,” Red moaned, the pleasurable ache burning beautifully, making him feel light headed and dizzy. The crop across his thigh caught him off guard and he jolted forward, more of the length sliding in as Razz shoved his cock further. He gasped at the two different waves of pain clashing against one another, sharp and dull colliding into a wave of heady arousal that left him blissfully fuzzy.

The sudden exit of Razz’s length had him wobbling and only when he stepped back did he give a curious tilt of his head upward, the single eye light focusing briefly in realization when Razz folded his arms.

“I DON’T THINK YOU REALLY MEAN IT.”

“what,” he hissed, “come on, don’t leave me hanging like this.” Desperation tinged his whiny tone, only vaguely embarrassed at how hard he was already, magic coalescing completely and without permission. His length bobbed and steadily dribbled on the floor and the carefully prepared towels before hand. He’d nearly forgotten about them. “i’m not fucking beg- aahh.” His breath left him in a sharp exhale at the brush of the riding crop under his length, flicking it light enough to sting just on the side of unpleasant. “don’t be an ass,” he growled, frustration tightening his brow.

“OH?” He realized his mistake at the menacingly cheerful tone of his counterpart and the riding crop came down three times across the fullness of his ass, awakening old pain with new and it burned like lightning, blossoming into an exquisite tenderness that left him swaying. He shuddered with each strike, openly accepting and there was something animalistic in the welcoming of it. “I THINK YOU’RE A BIG ENOUGH ASS FOR THE BOTH OF US.”

Red took a shaky breath, easing it out in the same trembling exhale.

“HAVE YOU SOMETHING TO SAY?” Smug bastard, he was, Razz didn’t relent in his teasing.

The fight had already gone out of him, giving in to the frantic chase of his own pleasure and Red whined. “fuck, yes, i need it, please. 

Razz purred at the confession and caressed the desperate skull before leaning down to drag his tongue along the abused eye socket, tasting himself. He grabbed the collar with gave a firm tug.

“TOO EASY.”

Pushing in with an exaggerated slowness, his hold on the collar the only thing keeping Red from thrusting forward, Razz permitted a soft sigh at the sparks of magic swallowing him. “LET ME HEAR YOU.”

It took a moment for Razz’s voice to reach him through the wonderful haze he was in, the different sensations returning him to the coveted fuzziness, his mind slowly going blank against the thrumming in his head. A sharp tap to his previously ignored thigh added to the building pleasure in heady pulses. An eye light rolled up, mouth parted as he panted out, “please, hnngh, please.” He whined, unsure of what he was trying to articulate.

Razz was all too smug to help. “BEG FOR MY COCK.”

“please,” he gasped, deliriously straining against the hold on him. “fuck me with your cock.”

The other trembled beneath him, sweat slicked his brow to join the line of pink saliva that slipped between parted teeth. They had hardly started the little game and Red was already coming apart and as enjoyable as it was to toy with him, he didn’t have the same constitution as his mutt. Magic prickled along his ilium, reminding him of his own shameless arousal. Thrusting forward, Razz pushed deeper until he was flush against Red’s skull, a hand keeping him pressed tightly and felt the warm lap of an eager tongue lavishing his pelvis, anywhere the other monster could touch before Razz backed out carefully, slowly.

“fuck, yes, thank you.”

Flushed at the eager compliance, his breath quickened at Red’s whimper, enjoying the squirming skeleton underneath, pining, wanting nothing but him. Razz gave another shallow thrust, never quite giving the other enough. When Red opened his mouth to complain, he shoved forward again, his movements rougher giving the other little warning and Red convulsed forward, magic tightening around the intrusion. Razz groaned lowly, adding two quick flicks of the riding crop to Red’s bottom, leaving deeper red welts across the fainter lines and moan fell wantonly from him, urging Razz to grow bolder and he became swifter, bucking against the skull with careful controlled movements, driving slow and deep.

“please, i want, i want to cum, please, fuck, razz.” Razz had eased his hold on the collar and Red frantically rocked against the cock, fucking himself desperately while his alternate helped him keep his balance. A garbled moan slipped out at the last switch against his bottom.

“CUM FOR ME.” Slamming himself flush with a groan, Razz hunched over his lover as the magic tightened around him and Red’s other eye light guttered out as he came, his body seizing up and straining against his binds as the euphoria became too much, cock twitching with spent magic. Razz followed closely with a grunt and felt the shudder run though the skull when his magic splashed against the inside. Red slumped against him, jelly kneed, high as a fucking kite.

They stayed like that for a moment, drifting in the aftermath of their shared orgasm before Razz carefully eased himself out, taking care to keep his lover’s head from moving. Translucent blue dripped at the edge of the socket as he banished his magic, ignoring the sticky mess that clung to his shorts and pelvis in favor of the sticky mess before him. Still, he took a moment to admire his work before caressing the skull in his hands, letting Red lean into him.

“RED?” He kept his voice low and soothing in the gentle prodding and got a delayed hum in response. “ARE YOU WITH ME?”

“uh huh,” came the dreamy, far away response.

Razz chuckled and pressed a kiss just above his nasal ridge. “I’M GOING TO REMOVE YOUR BINDS AND PICK YOU UP. ALL RIGHT?”

“yeah.”

Carefully, the skeleton moved methodically, producing a key from his pocket to unlock the handcuffs, rubbing wrists as the metal slid away before moving to the bar at Red’s knees. Joints were gently massages and checked for marks before he gathered the other in his arms. 

Red was compliant and loose in his hold, flopping arms around Razz’s neck to immediately nuzzle and missed the grimace at the blue streak left across his neck. Every little shift and jostle rubbed the sore lines across his magical flesh, prolonging the euphoria and he must have made an audible sound of discomfort because Razz shifted his grip lightly before walking over to the bed. 

“DON’T BANISH YOUR MAGIC YET, LET ME LOOK YOU OVER.” Gently he placed him down, letting him get comfortable before moving to sit beside. “I BROUGHT HEALING SALVE THAT SMELLS LIKE CITRUS OR EVERGREEN. WHICH WOULD YOU PREFER?”

He didn’t want to deal with all that right now, wanting nothing more than to simply bask. A heavy hand struggled to move, inching toward the body looming over him. Red mumbled, closing his eyes. “c’mere.”

Looking up from the two bottles in hand, Razz scrutinized his lover and sighed gently. “AT LEAST LET ME CLEAN YOU UP A LITTLE.”

He cracked one eye socket open at that, hazy eye light drifting upward and would have winked if the other wasn’t so wonderfully filled with magic. “nah.”

With a huff, Razz set the containers down and slid further down beside Red with his spine against the backboard, curling fingers around the still searching ones. “TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT, LOVE?”

“you.” Red tried to turn to his side and winched slightly before Razz scooted further down, rucking up the bedding when his boots and clothing caught the comforter and cuddled Red to him. Carefully and gently he ran an ungolved hand down his spine, earning a soft rattle and purr. 

“HOW ARE YOU FEELING?”

“good. can ya… um…” The soft rosy blush graced his cheeks and he immediately felt dumb.

A finger brushed along his mandible, tipping it up slightly and Razz smiled gently at him. “Tell me what you want, love,” he repeated softly.

“can ya kiss me?”

Without hesitation, Razz clacked a soft kiss to brow, the ridge of his nose and trailed down to his mouth, leaving soft, sweet kisses that left Red feeling tingly. With a sigh of his own, the skeleton rested his skull against the pillow of a ribcage and listened to the pulse of the soul beneath. He gradually nodded off to the gentle stroking along his spine.


	5. Cuckolding – UFPapyrus/USPapyrus/USSans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had a different version of Stretch in my notes, but as I wrote this up, his character shifted slightly. Hopefully for the more enjoyable? Is this Spicyhoney, Edgeberry or Swapcest? You decide! Because I certainly couldn’t make up my mind.  
>  **WARNINGS:** Swapcest, ectobodies, ectodicks, language, light spanking, little bit of rough sex but it’s consensual, some more of that attempted dirty talk.

“ _you want me to do… what_?” Stretch plopped into the chair beside his brother, honey bottle clutched in hand as he stared across the small kitchen table at his quiet, broodier alternative. If this was some sort of joke between the two, neither laughed. Fell looked calm, reflectively waiting with a surprising amount of patient. Stretch looked back to his brother’s large, starry hopeful eyes.

“ _PLEASE PAPY, WE’VE TALKED THIS OVER A LOT. COMMUNCATION IS THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE AND WHATEVER YOU DECIDE, WE WILL RESPECT YOUR DECISION._ ”

He looked back over to Fell, silently questioning.

“ **IT IS AN OFFER THAT IS NOT TO BE TAKEN LIGHTLY**. ”

There was the Fell he knew; coarse, stubborn, annoying, blushing. Wait. No, must have been a trick of the light.

“ _i, uh, you guys gotta give me a bit more of a warning. i mean… shit_.” Slouching in the chair, one hand slipped into his hoodie pocket and fiddled with the lighter there. Uncapping the bottle, he squeezed a dollop out into his mouth and sucked distractedly on the sweetness. “ _you really sure this is what you want bro_?”

“ _YES_!” Blue clasped his hands, giving an enthusiastic nod. “ _WE BOTH WANT THIS_.”

He must have really wanted this if his brother skipped chastising him for the language. Stretch side eyed Fell. “ _i gotta hear it from him before i consider anything_.”

The scarred eye socket twitched, an almost unnoticeable flutter before he took a moment for himself. A briefly, barely there flicker of emotion, the edgelord was strung up too tight. “ **I WANT YOU TO FUCK MY HUSBAND IN FRONT OF ME**.”

_shit_. _didn’t think he’d just say it like that_. Stretch was certain his cheeks were spotted a honeyed orange, a mirror of cyan blue on his brother’s. He’d held a torch for so long with his bro but ultimately never acted on it, something he kicked himself over and over and eventually let go when Sans found Fell. Fell himself was something else and he’d be the first to admit, he had some fucked up dreams about him as well. The kind that left him shaky, gasping and washing his sheets in the middle of the night like a shameful teenager.

He hesitated long enough for the silence to grow uncomfortable, sipping absently from the honey bottle until he dragged the last dredges with a flick of his tongue. Stretch knew what his answer would be the moment Blue asked, the problem was trying to talk himself out of it. Tipping his head up, he exhaled slowly before agreeing, much to the starry eyed surprise of his bro. They were all consenting adults and willing partners, even if Fell tried to glare a hole through his skull while he mused. Might as well get something out of this crazy arrangement. Stars, he was fucked.

The trio collectively decided to meet at a hotel at Stretch’s comfort and he appreciated it more than he realized. He didn’t think he could ever go back to his bro and Fell’s house without thinking about this every time. It was a pretty swanky hotel at the edge of town, peaceful, quiet, no cheapskate charge by the hour kind of place. Even sprung for the mini fridge, which he took full advantage of and grabbed an imported beer from it. He drank it without really tasting it.

Blue and Fell were adamant about taking it slow, easing him into the whole debauchery road of no return. They ordered room service for dinner and watched television together on the couch, a nice romantic comedy. Blue’s soft laughter eased the anxiety that had his knee bobbing and lighter in hand, clicking the flame on and off, twisting the wheel until he was certain Fell was going to rip it out of his hand and chuck it across the room. Instead, the edgier version of himself sat quietly, an amused smile gracing his skull as the credits rolled. It was an almost normal every day evening, reminiscent of days when it was just him and Blue, Stretch could pretend even when Fell and his bro glanced at each other over his head.

When Blue slipped his hand into his, Stretch squeezed back and allowed to be stood and lead into the bedroom. There was already a chair beside the extravagant canopy bed, Fell must have placed it there sometime earlier. With a shuffle, Stretch sat atop of the bed with a light bounce and suddenly Blue filled his vision, settling his hands atop of his shoulders to draw his attention away from Fell as he took a seat.

“ _IT’S OKAY PAPY, LOOK AT ME. PRETEND IT’S JUST YOU AND ME_.”

He nodded at the gentle encouragement, not trusting himself at the first sweet kiss pressed to his teeth. His sockets almost immediately closed, it was so soft and chaste, leaving him oddly tingly. The second kiss lingered longer, but it was quick and concise, more peppered along his skull and he only dimly realized he should probably kiss back. Awkwardly he returned it, earning a happy little sound from his brother and couldnt help but let his gaze drift away to their audience. Stretch was far from a blushing virgin, but having someone watch him was more than enough to make him a little nervous.

A hand on his cheek pulled his focus back and Blue smiled at him. His bro was too good and there was a brief pang of longing, of what they could have had. Clacking one more kiss to his mouth, Blue climbed into the bed beside him, shifting closer. “ _WE CAN STOP ANYTIME. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS SAY SO_.”

“ _okay bro_.” Taking a slow deep breath, Stretch tugged his hoodie over his head and tossed it beside him, leaving his familiar black tank top on. He got another easy smile as Blue scooted backward to lie comfortably and lofted his arms for his brother. Dragging a knee up, Stretched climbed across the bed to fit himself into the welcoming embrace and arms encircled his cervical spine, phalanges stroking the ridges.

There was no mistaking the flushed eager look on Blue’s face when Stretch dipped his head to press a similar soft kiss to the corner of his mouth and felt the sweep of a tongue follow. Stretch was careful of his weight and long limbs, gangly he called them and Blue only ever saw them as lithe, positioning himself to keep a sparse distance between them. With a light tug, Blue pulled him flush and nuzzled back and when the sweep of the orange tongue returned, he greeted it shyly with his own cyan blue. His breath hitched at the little sparks of magic, so similar to Fell but distinctly Papy. Sweet with a faint heady aftertaste of his brother’s cigarettes that had him chasing for more, gentle caressing pressing a little more urgently as he wrapped his tongue along the longer, curling around it.

It was all too easy to fall into this. It felt good, felt right, Stretch thought as he worked on the buttons of the crisp white shirt, plucking at them one at a time to reveal more tantalizing pearly bone. So perfect. He didn’t want to stop whatever Sans was doing, alternating between licking at his teeth and sucking on his tongue, swirling their magic together and stars, when did Blue ever learn this? He didn’t need to actually think of how, not wanting to ruin the moment and he can’t help the flicker of a frown when he broke the contact, a huff of disappointed ghosting across his face. With a lazy grin that promised something better, he bent to nibble at the exposed clavicle, nuzzling under his chin to lick at the delicate bone. He pulled sighs and light moans from the smaller monster, Blue starting to shift and squirm under his ministrations as he mapped out each little spot that made his bro’s breath catch. He shouldn’t have, after this things would go back to normal. As normal as they could be. They’d never have this again. 

“ _PAPY_?”

Stretch realized he’d stopped moving, mouth pressed against Blue’s collarbone. He felt the gentle stroke atop of his head, following the zigzagging coronal suture line, comforting, familiar. The other hand drifted to his shoulder, thumb rubbing small, soothing circles. Letting an easy grin fall back into place before he lofted his head, he watched the worry melt from Blue’s face.

“ _sorry bro, just ramping up the tension_.”

Fell had been quiet, stock still to the point he might had forgotten he was there if his magic wasn’t drifting possessively around them. He wanted to but caught himself from turning, instead crushing his mouth against Blue’s roughly. That’s why they were doing this? So Fell could get off to it. If the guy wanted a wanted a show, he’d get a damn good one.

Shifting his knee between Blue’s, he nudged them apart to let him grind down on it as he set to ravage his mouth. He let his bro have his fun, now it was his turn. Drawing downward, he left heated kisses down the broad sternum, trailing along ribs and curled his tongue over a few, lavishing them briefly and tugged lightly on a floating rib and was gifted a loud moan and Blue arched into him. He palmed the exposed spine, the curved bell of his ilium peeking out from beyond his pant’s waist. He took to fiddling with the belt for several annoying moments, mouth never leaving his brother’s body until the jangle of metal told him he’d won the little fight. He sat up to rip the belt off in one go, pants and underwear following in one harsh tug that dragged Blue a little down the bed, closer to him.

Oh stars, if he wasn’t fucked before. Pristine, pearlescent bone, a strong build easily hidden by his short stature, he had the build of a soldier, a warrior compacted into a gentle loving soul. Blue was beautiful. Magic the prettiest shade of cyan swirled in his pelvic cradle, waiting to form and Stretched buried his face in the magic. Dragging his tongue up and around the looped ischium, he followed with a sweep of fingers in the magic, swirling them encouraging.

Blue gasped, toes curling as he took a shaky inhale and dropped a hand atop of the skull in his lap. His magic formed into a cock befitting his size. It was small, but not too small, appropriate to his build and a little chubby. Almost downright cute, Stretch thought before he licked up the length of it, starting from the base. He swirled the head and sucked lightly on the tip, tasting a drop of magic that tasted like fucking nutmeg. Of course his bro would taste like spices and he was instantly addicted. A low possessive growl surprised him, more so that it came from him.

Fell inhaled as quietly as his could, breath slow and even at the deep pitched growl and shifted in the chair, causing one of the legs to squeak. Stretch’s attention was instantly on him, watching him watch Blue’s flushed face as he panted, mouth parting to catch a glimpse of a tongue running the length of his lower teeth. Hands fisted the sheets beneath him, tugging lightly.

When Fell’s gaze drifted along Blue’s body, he locked eyes with Stretch and it was a heartbeat of silence between them before the monster swallowed his brother’s cock, never breaking eye contact. There was a flicker of surprise in the red eye lights, jagged grin parting slightly before Fell snapped his mouth closed and folded his arms, stubbornly. 

Blue’s salacious cry drew them both back upward to watch him fall apart under the talented mouth, rocking his hips into the welcoming warmth. He gasped and arched under the trembling pleasure, doing nothing to stifle his voice or the wandering hand that tangled in his ribs. That was a sight that went straight to Stretch’s magic, forming already hard and leaving a noticeable wet spot in his pants. He’d be embarrassed later. Lathing his tongue along his brother’s cock, he bobbed his head a few more times before pulling off loudly.

Whimpering at the loss, Blue tucked an arm underneath him to lift his head enough to see Stretch fumble with his own pants before giving up and tugging them down just enough for him to free his length. He’d always been a little on the big side. Sans stared glassy eyed at it, at the long fingers slowly stroking the length and his mouth dropped slack, a trail of saliva slipped down his mandible unnoticed.

“ _you want your bro’s cock, huh_?” He whispered huskily, rocking into his hand and Blue’s eyes followed hungrily. “ _say you want it_.”

A light blue to already flushed cheekbones and blow pupils dropped bashfully. “ _I_ -” There was only a slight tremble and stutter at the language. “ _I WANT YOUR C-cock_.”

Leaning back on his heels, relishing in the moment of having his shoes on the bed and not being chastised about it, he crooked a couple of fingers to urge his brother closer. Blue obediently crawled on his hands and knees, leaning forward to present the orange cock with a kiss to the tip before licking it delicately, gathering a bead of magic and let the sweetness spread across his tongue before shifting forward for more. He made up for the length of his short tongue for enthusiasm, dragging it up and down the length before swallowing the tip, struggling to get his mouth around the girth. Blue stilled at the hand atop of his skull and Stretch pushed himself forward, gagging the monster briefly. He was quick to give him a moment to adjust to the angle before pushing in roughly, enjoying the muffled, choked moans.

Stretch couldn’t help but look over at Fell, wanting to see his reaction and was not disappointed. There was a hint of a rose along his cheeks and the normal grimace of a grin was clenched tightly, he was certain he could hear the jagged fangs creaking under the strain. Claws dug into his bicep and the all too casual crossed legs did little to hide the faint red glow of magic. There was an ominous glimmer to his eye lights, predatory and feral that made Stretch buck further into the small mouth.

Blue drooled around him, unable to do little more than whine. He swallowed instinctively and Stretch swore at the sudden constricted passage, bones flushed with a fervent need to fuck himself stupid, the ache of pleasure pulsing with each beat of his soul. He couldn’t come just yet, not like that and reluctantly pulled Blue off him.

The smaller monster gasped for air, tongue hanging out mid lick. He leaned forward to continue and was stopped by the grip on his skull. Hazy blue stars trembled in his sockets, lost in the wonderful haze of desire, a hand between his thighs, pressing insistent fingers against the entrance he’d made.

“ _naughty, naughty.”_ Stretch teased, _“what would felly think of that, hmm_?”

That sobered Blue up enough to bring himself around before Stretch hoisted him up with ease, manhandling him gently to plunk him back down on his knees, back flush against Stretch’s front and facing Fell. They met each other’s gaze for a stuttering moment and Fell narrowed his sockets at the pulse of magic between them and then snapped his gaze up to Stretch, annoyance hidden beneath the restrained arousal.

“ _oh?”_ Stretched chuckled, planting his hands on Blue’s hips, pulling him back to slid his cock against the conjured entrance. _“I don’t think he likes it_.” He teased a little longer, slowly rolling his hips to rut against bone and he bent to whisper, “ _give me something to hold onto, babe_.”

Blue wasted little time in giving him hips and thighs, filling out his magic with a rounded bottom ripe for smacking. The smaller monster jolted forward with a wide eyed squeak at the audible slap of bone against magical flesh. His hands dropped to the bed, immediately bunching in the rucked up sheets. The magic paled briefly before darkening in the shape of long, slender fingers and a palm.

There was a faint sound from Fell, too indistinct to decipher and his hands rhythmically clenched and loosened around his arms in a vain attempt to maintain the cool air about him. His gaze remained hard and hungry, devouring every heated caress and knead of magic. He drank in the quiet whimpers and the shuddering breaths, the struggle to remain seated and observe growing more difficult with each passing moment. He could barely stop himself from leaning forward when Stretch worked two fingers into his husband, drawing more needy gasps from Blue.

“ _good boy_ ,” Stretch muttered praise as he lined himself up and carefully pushed in. “ _fuck, sans_ ,” he growled, as magic clenched around his throbbing member. He slowed a fraction, wanting to savor every moment. “ _you’re so fucking tight_.”

Blue trembled with the effort to remain on his hands and knees, relying on the phalanges digging into his hips to keep him upright as moans spilled freely. He dropped his head to watch Stretch sink into him. His brother was thoughtful, careful, waiting to push more of his length as his magic stretched to accommodate him. He didn’t know who was bigger, Fell or his brother. Both filled him perfectly, leaving him breathless and dizzy.

Fell didn’t bother to pretend anymore, having dropped his hands to his lap. He palmed himself through his dark pants, bucking when Stretch snapped his own forward to hilt himself completely in Blue and the two panted raggedly. When his alternate glanced up again, it was Fell’s turn to not break eye contact.

“ _PAPY_ ,” Blue sobbed desperately and it worked for the both of them. He rocked backward, fluttering blue magic stretched thin around his brother’s orange. “ _PLEASE_.”

Stretch could never say no to his bro, especially now and with adequate time to adjust, Papyrus was quick to set up a punishing pace, slamming roughly into the smaller monster with a brutish drive. Blue wailed and Stretch pulled nearly all the way out before driving forward; Blue squeezed back tightly, pressing hard before following with several shallow thrusts, leaving the other unable to anticipate the next thrust. He could feel his walls tighten around him as he leaned forward, encompassing Blue with his body, a hand falling atop of the smaller clenched fist. He growled in his ear, glaring at Fell.

“ _does he do this for you? hnng. can he fuck as good as I can_?” A particular rough snap had Blue’s head jerking up, back arched almost painfully as wanton moans tumbled out of him increased by Stretch’s hand curling around his cock and pumping him in time. “ _can he make you feel as good as you make me feel, fuck, sans!”_ Overcome by the building pleasure, there was little room for ire as he watched the rougher version of himself match their movements. There was something slightly narcissistic about watching yourself come undone, knowing you’re the cause.

“ _PAPY_!” It was the only warning he got before Blue tightened painfully around him, pushing himself over the edge and he came with a wail, coating himself and his brother’s hand in cyan. Stretch fucked him through the wave of cascading pleasure, prolonging the delirious high before Blue clamped down with another shudder and cry. He followed closely with hoarse shout, tightening his arms around his brother, giving two last quick strokes before he filled him with magic, orange surging into blue. They remained tangled in each other, gasping for air, souls thrumming and brimming with magic.

Slowly, reluctantly, Stretch shifted off Blue and rolled to his side with a heavy thump and then to his back, lost in the haze of a good fuck. Blue collapsed where he was, burying his face in his arms and laughed giddily. Stretch felt a shadow fall across him and he managed to crack open a socket to peer blearily up at Fell standing over him. Dreadful scarlet magic burned in his eyes as his gaze focused on his lazier counterpart. He swooped down, gripping the back of Stretch’s skull before crushing his mouth against his, forcing a demanding tongue past teeth. He swallowed the startled huff before Stretch relaxed against it, allowing the other to attack him aggressively. Teeth nipped at bone punctuated with light growls before pulling back, the same rosy blush having spread across his skull.

“ **I’D LIKE TO MAKE AN ADDENDUM TO OUR ARRANGEMENT WITH THE APPROVAL OF ALL INVOLVED**.”

That earned him a raised brow bone and a loopy but pleased Blue shifted beside him, turning to face the two.

“ **I WOULD LIKE TO FUCK YOU IN FRONT OF MY HUSBAND**.”

_“…i’m down for that_. ”


	6. Size Play – UTGrillby/LTSans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn’t love lamiatale? Been wanting to try my hand at lamias and nagas ever since this AU was introduced, but I’m a lame duck and could never really think of any decent ideas. This very briefly was going to be bitty bones but then, snakes happened. I headcanon Grillby reads trashy romance novels and there’s nothing to convince me otherwise.  
>  **WARNINGS:** Grillby fucks a snake, would that be like the equivalent to monster bestiality? Food mention, blow job, ecto-cloaca/pussy/not really sure what I was going for, maybe implied fontcest but Sans and Pap aren’t related in this. I’m not exactly sure what else I could tag this with? There’s so much caps lock with Papyrus omg, why Pap.

Standing in the middle of his small quarters he had designated his living room, Grillby watched amusedly as Papyrus flittered back and forth, hauling in more stuff to pile around him, all the while chattering animatedly. There was a small playpen with yellow ducks along the fabric sides rolled up beside his feet, a matching diaper bag tucked on the other side and the skeleton had tossed a light blue blanket, Grillby had to guess cashmere, over his shoulder before thrusting a stack of laminated paperwork into his hands. He vanished for a moment, exclaiming he forgot one more bag. The elemental shuffled briefly through the papers, noting a great deal of numbered instructions, three different sets of schedules and what he had to assume was a barrage of emergency numbers. He hadn’t even tackled the ten-sheet report yet.

Papyrus returned, wandering up to Grillby to slip another bag over his unoccupied shoulder. “AND THIS IS FOR WHEN HE TAKES A NAP. HIS FAVORITE BLANKIE AND TEDDY BEAR IS IN THERE. AS WELL AS SNACKS.” Papyrus shook a finger. “DO NOT GIVE HIM MORE THAN A HANDFUL AT A TIME AND PUT IT SOMEWHERE AT LEAST WAIST HEIGHT. OUT OF SIGHT, OUT OF MIND. HE WON’T TRY TO GET THEM THOUGH, THAT’S A LITTLE BEYOND HIS REACH. NYEH HEH HEH.” His chuckling laughter jostled the carefully wrapped bundle around his midsection as he rested a protective hand around it.

Grillby skimmed the paperwork again, flames crackling quietly as he considered what exactly he had gotten himself into by agreeing to watch Papyrus’ pet while he was away. Some sort of weekend retreat for the royal guard in training with the great Captain Undyne.

“Papyrus,” he quietly interjected.

“DO NOT LET HIM WATCH TV ALL DAY, NO MATTER HOW MUCH HE BEGS. HE CAN WATCH AN HOUR OF KITCHEN NIGHTMARE OF HIS CHOOSING, I BROUGHT THE PORTABLE DVD PLAYER AND A STACK OF HIS FAVORITE SHOWS HAVE BEEN PRE-RECORDED. TWO HOURS IF HE’S BEEN VERY GOOD FOR THE DAY.”

“Papyrus.” He tried again, a little more louder. 

“IF HE GETS FUSSY, AND HE HAS BEEN SUCH A CRANKY PANTS THESE PAST FEW DAYS, HE LIKES TO CUDDLE AND BE READ TO. THAT USUALLY SETTLES HIM RIGHT DOWN. IT’S BEEN SO COLD LATELY AND EVEN WITH HIS JACKET, THE CHILL STILL SEEMS TO BOTHER HIM. I PACKED HIM AN EXTRA-”

“Papyrus!” His flames crackled sharply and the skeleton paused in the awkward mid bend, half squat before snapping straight, looking faintly sheepish. “Sans will be all right.”

It took several long minutes to reassure Papyrus before he finally unraveled the extra long scarf he had fashioned into a sling to reveal a skeleton lamia curled up around his spine. He was small, though bigger than Grillby was expecting, roughly the size of a toddler curled up, but when Papyrus unraveled him, he stretched out briefly to a good length of three feet from skull to tip of tail. A lot chubbier and heavier too. With a little gentle prodding and maneuvering, he was unraveled from his hidden napping spot and eased into Grillby’s arms. The lamia was still half asleep as he squinted sockets at the bright light overhead and sluggishly blinked at the elemental. He yawned a tremendous yawn, revealing very large fangs before dropping back off to sleep, instantly loose limbed.

Grillby chuckled good heartedly as Papyrus fussed over Sans for a few more minutes, fluffing up the oversized blue jacket he’d been wearing, making sure it was zipped properly. His cupped a rounded cheek, scratching lightly at a dirty spot that he tsked about, before smoothing the area with a gentle brush of phalanges. He proceeded to tell the sleeping lamia he’d be back Monday and he’ll miss him everyday and Sans, are you listening? Sans! Before finally just as fast as Papyrus came, he was gone, leaving just the two of them.

In the welcoming silence that followed, Grillby glanced down at the creature in his arms, then at the menagerie of stuff that surrounded him. He carefully stepped out of the mess and made his way over to the couch. His studio apartment while small, was cozy and quaint above his bar. Weekends were always a busy time for him, but he had agreed to help his friend watch his pet while he was gone.

Settling Sans atop the couch, the lamia instantly curled around a pillow and nuzzled it on his stomach before sighing quietly in his sleep. Grillby took a better look at the monster, surprising at the skeletal aspect of him. A tail of translucent blue azure magic rested snug against a ribcage, he’d only seen it for a brief moment before Papyrus had tugged the white shirt down, making sure he was warm enough. The jacket was well worn and though clean, looked like it’d seen better days. Sans had the smallest hands, delicate skeletal fingers currently balled into loose fists as he hide his face away. He looked relaxed and calm and didn’t seem to mind the change of his surroundings. Of course he was asleep and Papyrus had said this was normal.

Pulling the long cuff of his sleeve back with two fingers, Grillby noted the time on his watch. He needed to get everything squared away quickly before he had to head downstairs to open his bar. The elemental glanced at the folded playpen, then back to Sans and then reluctantly back to the playpen. “I think you’re more than adequate to be on your own.” There wasn’t much to get into anyways, he was a monster of simple means. Looking at Sans one more time, he was surprised to see the lamia awake and staring sleepily up at him. “Hello, little one.”

He sat down slowly on the opposite end of the couch, giving Sans ample room and time to adjust. The thick tail curled around himself as he watched Grillby with hazy white eye lights, blinking slowly so very reminiscent of a cat and looked as if he was ready to fall back asleep again. He shivered suddenly, huddling further into his jacket.

“Cold?” Slowly he warmed his flames as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbow to give off a little more unimpeded heat and Sans made a curious sound, unfurling himself to investigate. He was none too shy about it either, eventually draping himself over Grillby’s lap to bat curiously at the flames dancing along his forearm. He startled, stared at his own hand then up at the elemental.

He really was too adorable.

Content to sit for a little while, Grillby marveled over how small and delicate Sans was as he splayed little skeletal phalanges over his palm as if trying to match them up. With his other hand, he stroked the rounded skull and earned a few new sounds that faintly reminded him of purring. The lamia wriggled around in his lap, coiling to find a comfortable spot before falling asleep again, a tiny hand curled in his shirt. Grillby noted with a light frown, in his actual shirt, the small hand worming it’s way past buttons to rest against the quiet flames of his stomach.

Grillby had to untangle himself eventually and Sans expressed his displeasure with a grunt, followed by flopping over, utterly dejected to lay sprawled atop of the couch. He chuckled, tugging the jacket around the lamia. “How about a little snack to tide you over while I open shop?”

Returning to the bags, Grillby rooted around one and found a small baggie filled with what looked like goldfish crackers and offered some to Sans, setting a neat little pile beside him. The creature stirred and poked at one, flipping it over but didn’t seem that interested before he sighed and rolled over to his side, facing away from the elemental.

There wasn’t anything he could do about that and with a shrug, he sealed the baggie and set on the countertop of his kitchen before heading downstairs. The morning proceeded as normal, having just enough time to get his bar in order and open to the public. The recent hires slinking in at the last second, a sweet cat and alligator duo, quick with excuses and even quicker to get to work. It allowed Grillby to step away to check in on Sans, finding the lamia hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch nor had the crackers been touch. He chucked it up to missing Papyrus.

Hoping to placate the apathy that settled around the lamia, Grillby offered soothingly, “Papyrus will be back soon.” It earned him a huff before Sans held his hands out to be pick up. He hesitated. “Just for a little while.”

Carefully picking the skeleton up, hands sliding to support him as Papyrus had instructed, Sans buried himself against his chest, pressing his skull against his neck and nuzzled the exposed flames. “How about I make you some lunch?” When he tried to set him down, fingers clung to his shirt stubbornly, Sans having none of that nonsense and in the end, Grillby decided it wasn’t worth the fight. He scooted around the kitchen, holding Sans in one arm.

“Lets see what Papyrus has on the menu.” He adjusted his hold, finding the lamia nodding off and flipped through the paperwork one handedly. A casual read through the list brought up nothing. “Strange,” he muttered to himself and checked through the bags again. Other than a few snacks, there hadn’t been any real food items.

Settling down at the kitchen table, Grillby absently patted Sans on the back as he pondered over what to make. The lamia’s refusal to be set down hindering any real progress other than peering through his own meager foodstuffs. What would a snake monster eat? Mice? A shudder ran through him and Sans mirrored it, stirring awake to return to nuzzling him more.

“Perhaps a call to Papyrus,” he mused to himself and his charge. “He did leave me his number.” Glancing through the page and a half of contacts, he found the correct one at the top of the list and reached for his cell phone. Shifting his hold to cradle Sans as he squirmed a little, the short thick tail coming up to wrap around his forearm for purchase to lift himself up, curious at the phone as it began ringing.

Papyrus picked up on the second ring. “HELLO?”

Sans immediately perked up.

“Hello Papyrus, it’s-”

“IS SANS ALL RIGHT?”

Grillby reflexively smiled at the worried tone. “Sans is fine. I’m calling to ask about meals. There wasn’t anything special written down and I was curious about his diet.”

There was a faint shuffle on the other side of the line and Papyrus voice sounded muffled, “I’M ON THE PHONE UNDYNE. NO, IT’S ABOUT SANS. HE’S FINE. I’LL BE THERE IN A MOMENT.” The static shuffle moved away and Grillby realized Papyrus had been covering the phone with his hand. “I’M SORRY, CAN YOU REPEAT THAT LAST PART?”

Tipping the phone and his head up as Sans pawed at it sluggishly, he huffed. “Food. For Sans.”

“OH!… UM…” There was an uncharacteristic pause.

“Papyrus?”

“YES IT IS STILL ME, UH…” He dropped his voice. “I forgot about that… you see, Sans has particular tastes and it’s been incredibly hard to ensure proper dietary needs. He’s such a lazy noodle.” As if he could hear him, Sans trilled happily. “He needs a… steady… diet…” Papyrus’ voice slowed incrementally, trailing off at the end, an emotion coloring his words that Grillby hadn’t heard before.

He waited a moment. “Papyrus?”

“MAGIC!” The elemental jerked the phone away from his ear for a moment before gingerly replacing it as Sans clung to him tighter. “SANSNEEDSYOUR-” The dial tone beeped at him, his phone having dropped the call. With a miffed sigh, Grillby redialed only to receive a pre recorded message that the user was out of cell phone range. With a sigh, he looked down at Sans’ insistence to press against him, tail curling and rubbing against his forearm.

“ahhhnn?” It was another curious sound and Sans tapped fingers against his teeth, a sign Grillby took to mean _hungry_. Sans repeated the gesture, cocking his head inquisitively and toyed with the small white buttons of his shirt, plucking at them until Grillby chased them away with a shooing motion. He settled back in the crook of the monster’s arm with a huff and folded his arms grumpily.

 _Sans needs your… magic?_ Had that been what Papyrus tried to say? Grillby stood and Sans scowled, much more awake now. Should his fire magic not be what the lamia needed? He cooked nearly everything with it, infusing it with an archaic touch that his patrons seemed to appreciate. There was really only one way to find out.

A frustrating hour later, Grillby gave up. Sans hadn’t touched anything he made, raw or cooked and was reluctant to return to his bar. The girls worked well enough on their own, but he’d already left them for far too long. Settling Sans back on the couch, he left the lamia with snacks, acutely aware of the difference that had taken over the little monster. He was restless and agitated, nothing like the _lazy noodle_ he’d been handed earlier that morning.

He checked on him periodically, much more than he intended and on the third visit, he had a moment of sheer panic when Sans wasn’t on of the couch. Grillby found him curled up in his bed, nestled in the blankets and fast asleep. He watched the creature slumber peacefully before leaving him till dinner time. Trying again with a variety of foods, drinks, even condiments, Sans rejected them all, uninterested and mopey, his irritation growing with every item Grillby presented. He really didn’t know what to do and remained in his bar, distracted until he gave last call.

Sans hadn’t moved from his bed and rather than fight it, let the lamia burrow into the covers with him at bedtime. He supposed it was cold out, the creature drawn to his warmth as he read quietly, leaning against the headboard. Sans had slithered into a comfortable spot at his side, curling into a loose puddle and occupied himself by patting the little flames on his arm. Grillby watched amusedly, his gaze drifting from the written word to the creature then back to his book, feeling the tug of sleep. He yawned and Sans echoed the sentiment. Tomorrow would be better, he thought. Tomorrow would be a fresh start and he could figure out what the lamia needed.

He yawned again, turning the page of his book and focused on the blur of wording before relaxing further. Eventually he started to doze off, book resting atop of his chest and just at the cusp of sleep, he picked up the sound of persistent rustling and a low whine. He drifted awake to quiet chattering.

“pah – pah… hnn.”

“Sans?” Grillby mumbled groggily, struggling with his skewed glasses to straighten them and his book slid off his chest, ignored in favor of the more pressing issue. His flames crackled brightly, acting as his own little night light, giving just enough glow to see around him. He jumped at the pawing at his lap, curious taps against the slight tent in his stripped pajama bottoms. Oh dear. Mortified, Grillby tried to steer the lamia away while covering himself in embarrassment. “No, no, Sans,” he chastised. “That’s not, please don’t touch there.”

Sans insisted, ducking the wave of hands and nuzzled him repeatedly. A blue translucent forked tongue flicked between parted teeth, tasting the air briefly before licking a line up his pants. Grillby bolted upright, scooping the lamia up under the arms and held him as far away as he could. With the last dredges of sleep ripped away, the elemental took notice of the light blue flush that adorned the small monster. Sans panted and whined, hands struggling to tap at his mouth again.

“pah. pah.”

That’s when Grillby noticed the scent, an underlying musky smell that felt entirely too much in the small room and now that he was wide awake, so was the rest of his body. Sans must have noticed and suddenly Grillby was holding an empty jacket the lamia had slipped out of. Dropping back to his lap, hands tugged at the waistband with clear intention, his mouth already open and a small inviting tongue peeked between fangs. He was met with a gentle palm to his face to stop him, another going to his waistband to tug them back up.

“Sans, stop!”

Undeterred, the lamia leaned into the palm and reached out, gripping the flickering length. His hands were too small to fully encompass the girth but they were delicate in touch, warm and way too experienced to feel like this was some sort of strange accident. Using Grillby’s stutter of shock, Sans slipped around the hand pressed against his skull and struggled to open his jaw wide enough to accommodate the size of the elemental’s cock, drawing downward to swallow it with a happy sigh. “hnnnn,” he choked as he wrapped a tongue around the shaft and drew himself up, tugging insistently.

The shocked gasp gave way to a deep moan from the depths of his chest, flames shuddering at the flush of arousal and immediate shame that bloomed outward. “Sans.” It came out as a shaky plea and hands gripped the jacket tightly and he felt himself leaning back unconsciously.

Sans worked diligently, caressing what he couldn’t fit inside his mouth and a hand slipped underneath his long stretched out body. Fangs scrapped against Grillby’s member and he hissed, bucking involuntarily at the spark of pain. Sans tightened his grip, refusal to let go evident in the redoubled effort to drag him to the edge. His muffled whine not helping.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small higher functioning part of his brain recounted Papyrus voice. He needs your magic. Heat pooled in his belly, coiling like a serpent as his arousal was coaxed forward much too quickly and the tangle of heady musk and too many lonely nights tipped him over the edge. He didn’t have enough time to be embarrassed, breath ragged as his soul pulsed loudly.

Sans gave no inclination to minding, struggling to swallow the golden magic, hands scrambling to catch what slipped past his mandible. He pulled off with wriggling effort, panting heavily as he pawed at his skull, gathering the magic that painted the ivory bone and licked up the mess, devouring it with a blissful grin. Hazy, blown out eye lights drifted drunkenly upward and the lamia looked physically a lot better. Whatever listless, gloomy cloud that had taken over him was now replaced with a debauched, bright cheeked monster who still smelled incredibly enticing. 

Grillby pitched forward, straddling Sans’ tail and loomed over the smaller monster before he realized what he was doing. He easily caged his body, pinning the other on his back. A slick sound between him had him glancing down to Sans’ hand drifting along an entrance near the middle of the thick tail.

“grr… grrr.”

The low growl startled him, only for it to dawn on him a second later Sans was struggling to say his name as he made grabby hands for his still hard cock. “Sans, I’m… I’m not going to fit.”

The lamia whined desperately as he clawed at his entrance, grinding back before sliding desperate fingers inside. He bucked and arched into his hands. “a~aahh.” His gaze focused hungrily at the bobbing cock so close and reached for him again, fingers sticky with magic.

 _Oh stars, what am I doing_? If there was a special hell outside of the Underground, he was going there. Gripping himself, Grillby nudged the head in and immediately felt like this was a bad idea at the clenching walls struggled to push him out. Sans’ eye lights rolled upward, mouth agape as salvia dripped from fangs. His tail came up, wrapping around a bent leg to push him closer as Grillby inched himself carefully, thumbing the delicate bud at the top to ease discomfort. Sans squealed when he pushed himself all the way in and stilled, panting heavily.

It was incredible, there was no way to describe the tight warmth drawing him in, the faint shadow of sea green where they were connected. Muscles fluttered around his length, the hidden power in the coiling tail around his leg squeezing back. Sans arched underneath him, gripping at arms to pull him closer.

“hhnnn, grr… beee,” the lamia purred and Grillby tossed the last of his sanity. Cautiously slow, painstakingly aware of how little the monster was beneath him, he set a slow, steady pace. It was enough for the both of them, Sans gasping at each tortuous thrust, writhing under the burning pleasure and heat that consumed him. He keened loudly, sliding along the sheets at each flush press of remorseless hips, bouncing under the powerful lunge. He was thicker than his Papyrus and nearly as sweet, moving with a cruel slowness that bigger monsters seemed to bestow. Sans didn’t have the stamina to keep up, even with the rush of excess magic. It made him ache and burn, throbbing with a hunger that he could still taste on his tongue and his walls tightened eagerly around the engorged member.

“Sans,” Grillby grunted, hips stuttering at the panting visage underneath him, skull flushed and tongue lolling out, the faint trace of gold mixing with blue running down his mandible. He’d been worried about hurting the small monster, but Sans had given no inclination he was in pain, enjoying the gentle rock of hips. “I’m not, hnngh, going to last much longer.”

Sans came first with a wail, convulsing under the crashing waves of pleasure and clawed at Grillby, arcing almost painfully. The elemental wasn’t too far behind, shuddering with his release and leaned forward on elbows, blue and purple flaring briefly before softening to his usual oranges and yellows. The lamia had thrown an arm over his skull, hiding away as he heaved for air, ribs prominent beneath the thin shirt he wore. Head still swimming, Grillby carefully slipped from Sans, the monster giving a low moan as magic dribbled from his swollen entrance. Skeletal fingers traced along the puffy lips before drawing to his mouth, tongue darting out to taste.

Uttering a curse under his breath, Grillby shifted to lie on his side beside the lamia and Sans moved sluggishly against him, pressing against his chest as he caught his breath. “grrr,” Sans murmured before slowly climbing upward to clack a soft kiss against his mouth and curled up into a ball beside him. A hand rested against the slight bulge of his stomach heavy with magic. He clutched at his jacket, tugging it toward him but didn’t have the energy to pull it on and accepted Grillby’s help, draping it around him with a low purr.

The sudden ring of his cell phone on the bedside table had him reaching automatically for it, pausing long enough to see the name on it. Papyrus. He swiped his thumb across the front, swallowed his breath and pressed it to his ear.

“HELLO MY FRIEND. SORRY ABOUT EARLIER, UNDYNE THOUGHT IT BEST TO TACKLE ME AT THAT PRECISE MOMENT AND I HAD TO REPLACE MY BATTERY. NOW, ABOUT SANS’ NEEDS-”

“I took care of it.”

“OH.” There was a beat of thoughtful silence. “WELL. THAT’S GOOD. I HOPE HE HASN’T BEEN ANY TROUBLE.”

“None at all.”

“GOOD. GOOD. IS HE SLEEPING? HE USUALLY FALLS ASLEEP AFTER EATING.” Grillby blushed. “GRANTED, HE’S ALWAYS SLEEPING BUT HE MAY WAKE UP IN AN HOUR AND WANT SECONDS. ARE YOU CAPAPBLE OF HANDLING THAT?”

  
The elemental stuttered, “I-I think so.”

“EXCELLENT. I KNOW IT’S A BIT UNCONVENTIONAL, BUT THAT’S WHY I CHOOSE YOU TO LOOK OVER MY LAZY NOODLE. WELL, GIVE HIM LOTS OF KISSES FOR ME AND TELL HIM DADDY LOVES HIM VERY MUCH.”

“I will.”

“GOOD BYE!”

Slowly, Grillby set the phone down and rested a hand atop of the small skull pressed against his side. Though Sans didn’t stir, he trilled happily in his sleep at the gentle touch and subsequent petting. “Papyrus called.” He paused and smiled. “I’ll tell you in the morning. Good night Sans.”


	7. Cross-dressing – UTPapyrus/UFPapyrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Bangs hands on table* GIVE ME SKELETONS IN DRESSES! GIVE ME EDGEPUFF! GIVE ME HAPPY FELL! *Flails*
> 
> Sorry about the delay, had a rough week at work and I’m not quite back on track, my schedule is still up in the air right now. So for the next week, you might get maybe one or two chapters at the most. I’d like to resume posting every other day but that’s currently not feasible. Until things straighten out, I’ll have this janky whenever I have time to post, schedule. Thanks for hanging in there with me.  
>  **WARNINGS:** Papcest, ectodick, ectopussy, slipped a praise kink in there when ya’ll weren’t looking.

Glaring at the pair of black ripped jeans, Fell huffed, folded them neatly and set them amongst the other two pairs he’d pulled from his cabinet. He eyed matching shirts and trailed claws along the front of one that laced in the front, thick black cording standing out against the blood red before growling. Snatching it up, he tugged the shirt harshly over a hanger and shoved it back into of his closet, utterly done with debating over his choice of clothing. It was date night and he would not be late to his evening out with Papyrus. His current attire was fashionable, fun, even a little flirty according to the magazine tucked under his mattress that he most certainly did not buy for the fashion advice.

It’d been a struggle, a quiet battle he inwardly fought to allow himself these moments. The surface world wasn’t like the underground and transitioning from hardened, viral mindset to not quite so rough and aggressive had been a slow and arduous path. He had all but locked away these last remaining slivers of himself and it had been only fairly recently in the last few months, he had given himself permission to take this doubtful step forward.

A heavy handed knock banged on his closed bedroom door, his brother’s voice muffled through it, “ **pap’s waitin’ for ya downstairs. ya comin’ or what, dude**?”

“ **I’LL BE DOWN IN A MINUTE**.” Reaching for his leather jacket, Fell caught his reflection in the mirror and straightened slowly, scarlet eye lights drifting along his body. He smoothed a hand over invisible wrinkles and slowly twisted sideways before rolling his eyes at himself and jammed his jacket on. His brother’s annoying knocking returned and he whirled around, stomping across his room to throw open the door.

Fist raised mid bang, Red stared back before raising a brow bone. “ **lookin’ good bro**.”

“ **NATURALLY.** ” He laughed, boisterous and loud and not at all to compensate the fluttering in his stomach before pushing on to head downstairs. At the top of the landing, he paused in slight trepidation, a hand pressed to his stomach again before flowing down the stairwell, trailing a claw along the bannister.

Papyrus stood at the bottom in front of the fireplace mantle; it hadn’t been cold enough to light it and sat unused, hands tucked loosely behind his back as he studied a few of the framed photographs. He lingered on an older one, his ever present grin softening at he and Fell standing in front of an old movie theater. An arm had been wrapped around Fell’s shoulder, pulling him closer to clack a kiss to the zygomatic bone as he scowled, the faint rosy blush making him even more adorable. It had been a wonderful memory, their second date and they had both been uncertain, treading into uncharted territories no handy dating manual could prepare them for.

Sensing the other’s magic, prickly, spicy, warm, Papyrus turned, his grin brightening. “FELL DEAR, I HAVE OUR RESERV-…” He didn’t trail off so much as his voice seized in his throat when Fell stood on the bottom step, halting casually to allow him to take in his perfection fully.

Fell wore a deep, red wine dress with a bateau neckline that gave just the hint of collarbone and the full flowing hem was scalloped, falling mid thigh. Without an actual waist, he had paired it with a thin, black belt, cinching in some of the loose material to his natural shape. He had paired it with simple black high-heeled boot that came to his knee, allowing an enticing length of ivory femur. A leather jacket, the one Papyrus had given him on their three month anniversary, and his familiar red scarf completed the look.

“ **HOW DO I LOOK**?”

Papyrus could only stare, stunned into silence as his gaze wavered up and down his figure. Fingers twitched, leather jacket swishing quietly under the unconscious fidget and Fell fought to remain still, not one for being suddenly self conscious. Perhaps this was a bit too much.

“Beautiful,” Papyrus breathed and Fell beamed, descending the last step and moved across the room, a sway to his hips as Pap held out his arms to pull him into a hug. A clack of teeth against his jaw before his softer alternative was pulling back to gawk once more, making no attempt to hide his blatant staring.

Fell didn’t help matters by drawing his boot to the edge of the coffee table and teasingly leaned down to needlessly adjust a buckle on his ankle. Phalanges brushed up the smooth black calf, drifting past his knee and demurely tugged down the slipping length of his dress. Papyrus choked and tried to cover it with a cough, looking away quickly when Fell straightened.

Red leaned over the railing of the second floor, his own broad grin widening as he propped his mandible on a fist. “ **bring my little bro back by ten or else.** ” At Fell’s huff, he winked before shuffling off to his own room, leaving the two alone.

A moment of shy silence slipped between them. “RESERVATIONS ARE AT NINE,” Papyrus said, regaining his vigor. “I THOUGHT WE COULD GO TO A BAR FOR A DRINK BEFOREHAND. I HEARD ABOUT THIS QUAINT LITTLE TAVERN ON EAST BOULEVARD.”

“ **SOUNDS WONDERFUL**.”

The drive over was pleasant, the evening air still warm from leftover summer days. It’d be fall all too soon and Papyrus would more than likely have to keep the top of his red corvette up. Until then, he enjoyed the breeze whipping through his metaphorical hair, twin red scarves tangling behind them as they sped along. Pap shifted gears and settled his hand atop of Fell’s knee feigning indifference as he thumbed the rounded patella. He trailed his hand upward along the femur to where the hem of the dress had ridden up, slipping just underneath before returning his hand to the wheel. He pretended not to notice the soft rosy blush to his boyfriend’s cheeks.

The bar proved to be a grand find, monster and human carousing side by side as jukebox music drifted lazily through the smoky air of the bar. The sharp crack of pool games intermingled with murmuring groups of friends and after work colleagues all spending a Friday night together. Fell eyed a kitschy neon sign on the nearby wall as he walked by it, heading toward the bar to refill their drinks, not missing the few monsters who eyed him appreciatively.

Papyrus caught the swing of hips, dress swirling under the confident stride and set his empty glass down on the table he was seated on to watch the other lean against the bar, chatting amiably with the bartender as they fixed up their drinks. It was an absolute joy to see Fell so happy, so open and free and felt his grin warm at the laugh that bubbled from the monster across the bar, robust voice easily carrying above the crowd. Months ago, he wouldn’t be caught in such a crowded area with so many humans and without his armor on. He looked relaxed, at ease, beautiful.

Papyrus found it difficult to keep his eyes off his mate as the night progressed, doing little to hide the quiet, smolder of hunger in his sockets. Twice he caught his magic stirring and rubbed at an eye light to banish it lest he embarrass Fell. He missed the flash of red magic, relishing in the attention he brought on as Fell consciously preened, fluffing his dress as they sat down for dinner at a nice restaurant, a clawed finger trailing along the edge of his auditory meatus before flittering along his jaw that had Papyrus stutter mid sentence before continuing.

Dinner went by just as lovely, their conversation drifting easily as Papyrus ran his thumb over Fell’s extended hand resting on the table between them as they spoke. It was close to midnight when they found themselves parked on the beach front in a quiet alcove. It’d been a delightful find, off the main path surrounded by sand dunes and overgrown beach grasses. It’d been Papyrus’ perfect ending to their wonderful date, to watch the stars above them. The pebbled beach was small and secluded, perfect for a midnight stroll but neither made it further than the front seat.

Teeth pressed painfully together, Fell eased himself into Papyrus’ lap, straddling him carefully to avoid bumping the horn with his tailbone. He pressed his palms flat against the broad chest, easing the other back. What started as a languid smooch quickly turned heated, magic forming heavily in mouths and rushed forward to meet one another, scarlet and orange intertwining. A hand cupped the back of Fell’s skull, gently bringing the other closer as they parted, breath dancing over each other.

Magic shifted in Papyrus’ socket, glowing a soft orange under the moonlight and his free hands stroked at one of Fell’s hips before the other joined, playing with the soft material. “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU DO TO ME?”

Fell gave a knowing smirk at the husky timber. “ **TELL ME**.”

“I SAW THOSE MONSTERS AT THE BAR, EYING YOU. WANTING YOU.” Papyrus rocked up to let Fell feel him.

“ **WERE YOU JEALOUS**?” he teased.

“YES.” It came out as a low purr as Fell ground down, slowly rolling his hips. Papyrus captured him in another kiss more forceful than the last, followed by a softer, sweet peck. He brushed back the leather jacket, letting Fell shrug out of it before trapping his arms to tip him down for another kiss, feeling the other grin against him. A slight wiggle and the jacket dropped into the seat beside them. “I WANTED TO TAKE YOU, RIGHT THERE AND THEN.”

Fell cupped his lover’s flushed face, thumbs stroking the heated bone and knew his was a matching red. “ **I’M HERE NOW** ,” he murmured dipping his head to steal another kiss. Phalanges trailed up his femur and slipped beneath his dress to leave a few teasing strokes along the front of his clothed pelvis. It was a little difficult with two lanky skeletons but they made it work and after a few moments of giggly fumbling of clothes, panties being pushed aside and the rustle of a belt and slacks as they shimmied back and forth, not wanting to pull away from one another long enough to fully undress.

Fell sank onto Papyrus, hissing lightly at how little prep he had but it was so fucking worth it. The heat and length and girth, oh fuck, if he wasn’t hopelessly, lustfully addicted to that feeling. Papyrus rubbed gentle circles into his hip, mirroring the feather light stroking against his clit and slowly he relaxed, rocking experimentally. Despite Papyrus’ claim, Fell took it slow, easy, working themselves up at a leisurely pace. He had the position of power here and could enjoy the view of Papyrus beneath him, sockets hooded. The smell of ocean and faint light of the full moon and stars above shadowed by a few hazy clouds became a dim backdrop to their lovemaking.

Somewhere Papyrus had snuck the zipper of Fell’s dress down and a strap slid off one shoulder in their movements, baring more tempting collarbone. Pap surged upward to kiss it, dragging teeth against it before soothing with more cherished kisses. He thumbed an old scar and kissed that too, murmuring soft praises against bone as they built up a faster pace. Papyrus couldn’t keep his hands still, trailing them up and down the exquisite body, fisting handfuls of Fell’s dress as if threatening to tear it off before smoothing it down.

“MY FAVORITE COLOR.” He pressed a chaste kiss to the inside of Fell’s elbow, earning a huff.

“ **I KNOW**.”

“CHEEKY.” With a coy nudge, the other strap of the dress fell scandalously down his arms, revealing more of his sternum. That too was lavished in kisses and attention, making Fell’s head swim. “YOU’RE SO BEAUTIFUL FELL, SO STRONG. HOW DID I END UP SO LUCKY? YOU’RE TRULY AN INSPIRATION.” He grunted as Fell tightened around him, walls fluttering at the praise. “SO GORGEOUS, MY TREASURE.”

Fell tipped his head back, eye lights blown wide to stare upward at the night sky, unable to meet his lover’s gaze, cheeks glowing red and gripped Papyrus’ shoulders tighter. His soul pulsed brightly, indescribably happy in the moment. Papyrus had been the best thing to happen to him after their worlds collided, he’d felt so lost, so alone.

“FELL,” Papyrus grunted again, his body tensing, a warning he was close. The car rocked with their frantic pace, his grip bruising as he drove into him, tugging Fell down to met him with each thrust.

“ **C-CUM INSIDE ME**.”

He’d barely managed to stutter out the plea before Papyrus gave a tense shout and crushed Fell tightly to him. His hips snapped up one last time, cock twitching as he emptied himself in shuddering waves. Fell clamped tightly around his length, a wail trapped between teeth and followed closely, tremors racking his frame as he clutched at the monster’s back, clawing uselessly at clothed ribs. Fingers caught winged scapula, holding on for dear life as ribs moved in tandem with each ragged breath. He could feel their combined magic slid down his femur, staining the front of Papyrus’s slack and shivered.

Papyrus held him tighter, souls syncing in the brief moment. “I love you,” he whispered against the bared sternum and nuzzled the broad, flat bone, pressing skeleton kisses until Fell’s trembling hands found his face and tugged it up to meet his gaze.

“ **I love you**.”


	8. Deep Throating/Face Sitting – SFSans/SFPapyrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These two again and I couldn’t decide which version I liked better, so you get both.  
>  **WARNINGS:** Swapfellcest, ectodick, ectopussy, slight dubcon but it’s apart of the scene and they’ve both consented to it, language.

Sans studied the roster schedule in front of him with little more than a slight curious raise of a brow bone and decided the stars must have aligned something fierce, signifying something awful was on the horizon for him. In the meantime, he’d take the rare day off without complaint, Papyrus’ schedule lining up with his for the first time in months. Things had been, for lack of a better word, tense between them in the last few weeks. They had so little time for one another and tempers flared over trivial matters, mornings spent in shouting matches and beds left cold and empty.

Even Alphys noticed a difference and an offhanded remark of her second lieutenant needing a good fuck was met with scathing glares. Still, it brought to light their decidedly simple fix and it was unanimous and unspoken decision to spend it in their playroom. The former shed and storage area, occasional dungeon for the rare human, it’d been transformed over the years for their enjoyment. And enjoy it they did.

Sans’ bones low key buzzed with roused magic as he finished the rest of his shift, his mind drifting periodically with thoughts of the upcoming evening when he was on break. He was sure the Bunnies could sense it, but all were wise enough to not mention it. He’d been the one to arrive home first and stripping himself of the majority of his uniform he set to the task of making dinner.

Papyrus shuffled in just as he finished and both ate in silence at the small salvaged dinette table. With a calculated hesitancy, unmissed by the sharp ice blue eye lights of his older brother, he reached across the table to brush fingertips against Sans, tracing along a single joint before his hand returned to his lap, pleased his lord allowed him that. The taller monster nearly vibrated in his seat, an even tangerine blush spread across his cheeks and hooded sockets watched his brother quietly.

Sans moved around the kitchen with a practiced and deliberately slow ease, swaying hips to an unheard melody as he methodically put away dinner, washed the dishes and cleaned the countertop for the fourth time. He heard the creak of a chair and a rattling purr Papyrus couldn’t stifle as he stood.

“m’lord,” he muttered, jamming aching hands into the dark, fur lined jacket he had yet to take off and slouched dejectedly.

Sans hummed, feigning obliviousness, his own eagerness belying him as he didn’t keep up the façade for very long. “OH, ALL RIGHT,” he returned dully, folding the cleaning rag in a neat little square before setting it down. “I’VE MADE YOU WAIT LONG ENOUGH.” He stepped into Papyrus’ personal space and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling himself flush. The kitchen around them bled away into a flicker of nothing, darkness would have been something, before their playroom materialized. He didn’t much care for his brother’s lazy short cuts, but they proved to be of the occasional use.

The moment the floor was solid beneath his feet, feeling Sans cling a little closer, Papyrus took a deep breath and would have been all over the smaller monster if his lord hadn’t held up a hand, pushing him back a step. He followed the command and obediently stayed.

“ON THE BED. STRIP.”

Sans didn’t have to tell him twice and he eyed the appointed large bed with a decorative metal frame, coils of what he assumed to be ivy trailed in elegant swirls. It’d been recently made, sheets clean and pressed and smelling faintly of the laundry soap they used. Gingerly, he sat on the edge aware of his unkempt attire and tugged on his jacket, throwing it to the ground where it was out of the way. His orange sweater followed by the simple black tank top he wore underneath it and shivered at the faint cool air. It was always colder than their home, but he thought with a sly grin, they were quick to warm it up.

In the meantime, Sans moved to a wooden cabinet, a beautiful find Papyrus had found on his birthday. He’d fought tooth and nail for it and laboriously restored the water damaged flooring, rooted around the odd cat and alligator’s shop in Waterfall until they chased him off with his insistent noising. He’d come away the victor with brand new elegant handles. The wood had been sanded and glossed, bringing out the hidden treasure, leaving Sans speechless when Papyrus presented it to him. Trailing a claw along the front at the memory, the guard flipped open the doors and eyed his collection proudly. He rooted around a few toys, setting aside a couple of favorites and was briefly tempted with the new leather whip he’d purchased and had yet to use before finding exactly what he was looking for.

Papyrus’ magic buzzed eagerly, gathering in his pelvic inlet, swirling to form something but he held back. Stripping the rest of his clothing, finding their way in a pile with his jacket, he left his beautiful collar on. It was made from treated black leather, leaving the inside velvety smooth and decorated with golden fat spikes that he had on more than one occasion flipped inside out to press against delicate bone. He was grateful he’d finished by the time his little lord whirled around and inhaled sharply at the pure, predatory look as he stalked forward, handcuffs dangling loosely off a finger. Papyrus’ immediate held his hands out, wrists close to each other.

Sans tutted. “LAY ON YOUR BACK. HANDS UP.”

Golden eye lights tilted upward in a salacious grin before he was scrambling backwards, knowing the position that was desired. He stretched his hands over his head toward the frame and wove fingers through the grating, keeping himself taut. A low whine escaped him, unable to contain his excitement when Sans climbed atop of the bed to throw a leg over his chest and straddled the broad ribcage.

He slipped the cuffs on, fixing them to his liking; a little more tightly than normal, they’d leave beautiful marks in the morning to remind them both. Two quick precise tugs to make sure they were secured enough before settling himself into a more comfortable position, sliding along ribs, grinding down innocently to keep his balance as he moved.

Scooting back to sit atop of femurs pressed together, just shy of the heated pelvis Sans busied himself with removing his boots, sliding them off one petite foot, than the other and set them neatly beside the bed. He eyed the rumpled pile of his brother’s clothes with a sniff and toyed with the belt of his shorts. That too joined his boots, coiled neatly and placed just inside his left boot, leaving him to drag a claw along the zipper, hooking the tip of a phalange in the metal before inching it down. Papyrus shifted under him, earning him a glare and he stilled before Sans continued, divesting himself of his shorts.

A sharp inhale and barely suppressed rattle told him his mutt was enjoying the show. He left his shirt on, a thin black one he wore under his armor and lewdly clung to his ribs. With a sigh, Sans leaned back to rest his hands on his brother’s knees and let his legs fall open, revealing a soft mound of glistening ice blue magic. The soft glow disclosed just how eager his little lord pretended to not be. Sans stroked himself lightly, teasing the translucent folds with a barely there caress, just enough to gather a drop of magic. Papyrus bucked under him, teeth grinding as he tugged unconsciously on the cuffs as Sans hummed thoughtfully and licked his finger, never letting his gaze waver.

“m’lord,” he whined.

“WOULD YOU LIKE A TASTE?”

His tongue manifested with a crackle of magic so fast he caught it on the edge of his golden canine as he parted his mouth. Sans leaned forward to slip the finger inside and his lord was divine, tasting of winter and electricity, sparking like sweet candy, utterly perfect and he desperately needed more.

“please,” he begged as soon as Sans pulled his hand away from stroking the long orange tongue playfully.

His brother contemplated it with a thoughtful tap to his chin and Papyrus fearfully believed he wouldn’t continue until he felt Sans shift. He pushed himself up and onto his knees, a hand falling to the lowest rib to tug himself forward, enjoying the pulse of the steady soul beneath him. His other hand reached out and over Papyrus’ head to grip the bed frame to drag himself over his sternum. He planted knees on either side of his skull, allowing for one glorious moment of unobstructed view of his blushing magic before lowering.

Papyrus flattened his broad tongue and danced along the slit, catching the folds between teeth and his magic tightened at the shaky inhale above him. He swirled around the little pearl that made those perfect bones rattle softly at the jolt of pleasure before dipping his tongue further to slip inside, tasting more of his lord. The quiet pleased humming hitched and Sans pushed his hips down, covering his mouth and nasal passage. The curved tip caught the bundle of nerves as he licked with a sudden fervency, drawing out a thin moan and Pap tugged on his handcuffs wanting nothing more than to grab those quaking femurs and drown in his brother’s pussy.

“GREEDY LITTLE MUTT,” Sans mocked before shifting his weight back onto his knees and off Papyrus, who took an unneeded breath. Slick coated his teeth and he licked them clean with a slow, vulgar sweep of his tongue. He tried to follow, only managing a fraction before his pinned position halted him, his lord so tantalizing close. A trail of salvia and magic clung to the delicate folds, rooting his attention to the single drop threatening to spill and his chest rumbled with a longing purr.

Reaching behind him, Sans ran a hand down the agitated, swirling magic, choking off any quip Papyrus had and he eagerly rocked into the hand. Pressing his head back into the pillow, the monster panted loudly and his cock manifested against his will, earning a painful squeeze.

“I DIDN’T GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO FORM ANYTHING, DOG. MAYBE I SHOULD LEAVE YOU HERE ALL NIGHT.”

“no, please, you can’t!”

The carnal desperation in his brother’s voice was dangerously addicting, and Sans raised a brow bone, questioningly. “I CAN’T?” He canted his hips downward, grinding them without letting up. “THERE’S _NOTHING_ I CAN’T DO.” Sans rocked against the eager tongue as it plunged into his welcoming entrance, dragging along the velvety walls. Arousal fluttered excitedly in his soul, a slow building tight pressure that made him arch into the gratifying talented tongue.

He retaliated by giving another squeeze of the hot, hard magic and a rough stroke. A luminous bead of magic oozed from the flared head, slicking his finger’s movements with each pass. He gave three quick pumps before leaving Papyrus to thrust uselessly into the open air before grinding down again, letting him bare his weight.

“THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO BUT TAKE-” He gasped wetly, rolling his hips. “WHAT I G-GIVE YOU.” He was so close, Papyrus alternating between licking and sucking, growling possessively that tipped him over the edge. He came with a controlled shudder, body ridged and taunt as his soul flared brightly beneath the dark shirt. The hands gripped Papyrus skull tightly, keeping him flush against the gush of magic, spilling more of the electricity and heat that he slurped obscenely at. Had he the need to actually breath, he’d surely been smothered, a death that wasn’t so bad in his eyes by the trembling femurs and magic as Sans rode out the rest of his shaky orgasm.

In the last fading sparks of his high, Sans heard and felt Papyrus make a few noises, words muffled by his weight and he was content to remained seated a few moments longer before he trusted his hands to not shake. He tilted forward to undo the cuffs, intending to reposition his brother for another grueling task.

Papyrus yanked his hands free, gripping the slender femurs as he surged upward to flip Sans on his back and loomed over him. “i’m sorry m’lord,” he muttered, sounding nothing like it. “i’m sorry, i need you.” Catching the flailing fists aimed at his, he stretched them high over Sans’ head in a tight embrace, leaning on them at the struggling, using his weight to keep his steady.

“GET OFF, MUTT!” Sans hissed sharply, as Papyrus shifted to a single hand clenched around his wrists. He tried to knee the other in the pelvis and flailed uselessly as he moved forward.

His brother gave a dark chuckle as he stroked his still hard cock, a barred knee falling beside the scowling cute face, “that’s what i intend to do.” and draped himself over the skull, a dribble of magic clinging lewdly to the tip, threatening to fall with each little movement. Papyrus immediately stilled, hazy eye lights searching the rage fueled growls and a knee thumped against his tailbone. His little lord was quite flexible.

“if you don’t want this,” he mocked, toying with the beautiful pride, giving him an out. “there’s nothing stopping you from using blue magic.” He brushed his cock against the clamped teeth, smearing the lucent orange and Sans jerked his head to the side, smearing more. That wouldn’t do. With his free hand, Papyrus pressed along the side of his lord’s skull, catching just behind his jaw to force open his mouth just enough to cram the head of his cock inside.

“better not bite down, m’lord,” he warned, grunting as he shifted his weight carefully and for a moment, he wondered if he would. Not that he would have minded.

He was met with a fierce glare and the sweet blush of blue graced those magnificent cheekbones told him of the otherwise conflicting enjoyment. Sharp teeth grazed along his length as he pushed slowly into the welcoming warm heat and Papyrus groaned, eye lights flickering prickles of pain. “fuuuck.” His hips snapped forward to bury more of his cock, bestowing none of the gentleness his lord had given him.

A throat was conjured on impulse against the intrusion and it tightened reflexively, Sans swallowing around the magic and his body strained, gagging wetly and adding to the intoxicating heat. His sockets watered immediately and he thrashed against his restraint and refusal to give up burned in his blown eye lights, struggling to maintain his glare but it was a losing battle and they both knew it. He couldn’t let his mutt know how fucking used he felt and how much it turned it on. Sans’ tongue manifested against the stimuli, resting heavily at the bottom of his mouth, Papyrus much too big to do anything else.

His dog moaned encouragingly ending in a possessive growl as his hips slowed. Papyrus slipped two fingers into Sans’ pussy, grateful for the length of his reach and pumped them viciously, curling upward to have the skeleton beneath him jerk in time. Two could play this game and just as he could feel Sans clench around him, he stopped to bury himself again in the rewarding mouth.

Sans arched, struggling fruitlessly as his nasal bone was pressed against pubic and tears slipped unchecked down his cheeks. It was a brutal place, forcing his mouth open to an agonizing point, he feared it might actually crack the joint. He could barely breath, catching gurgling gasps. Papyrus scent and taste filled his skull, he was hot on his tongue, burning him from the inside out, throwing him into a dizzying lurch that clawed at his senses, loosing a brief flutter of panic in his soul. The grip on his wrists was bruising, knowing it mirrored his brothers and he was oversensitive, feeling his walls tighten, clenching against nothing as he came hard, shaking.

The sounds and struggled gasps send Papyrus over the edge and he gave two unforgiving thrusts before ramming himself all the way down, the coil of merciless pleasure snapping under the restraint. Orange magic painted pearly bone and it was too much, slipping past Sans teeth and dribbled down his cheeks as Pap pressed one last time before slowly easing himself free with a shudder.

His jaw ached and Sans coughed, spitting up some of the spent magic even as he was gathered in his brother’s arms and held close, a hand patting clumsily against his skull. He raised a trembling hand and Papyrus reached for it, soothing praises on his tongue only for his soul to turn blue.

The elegant hand jerked sideways and Papyrus’ body went with it, throwing him down onto the bed and pinning him helpless. He struggled briefly, feeling like a pinned bug and could only watch as his lord stood to his full height, fury and madness like a beautiful storm in his ice blue gaze, despite the streak of cum across his face and own his slick running down his thighs. Fuck, if he wasn’t hard already again, ready for anything his lord would bestow upon him and Papyrus offered up a challenging grin.


	9. Lingerie – USSans/USPapyrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did someone say sub Stretch? Me. I said it. You’re welcome. I spent an hr looking at really cute lingerie and ended up making something up in my head instead. My schedule is still up in the air right now, but I’m thinking I might starting posting chapters Monday, Wednesday and Fridays. I wish I could post everyday but it’s not feasible. I give so much kudos and credits to the wonderful writers who can post everyday. You’re the real MVP.  
>  **WARNINGS:** Swapcest, ectodicks, frottage, language, smoking mention.

Perched on the edge of their shared bed, Sans swung his bare feet nonchalantly, humming quietly as he waited on his brother. He’d come home from a long day of training with Alphys, tired, dirty, hungry but satisfied with the progress of their excursion. Dragging himself into the warmth of his and Papyrus’ home, his weary grin brightened and he immediately perked up at his little brother waiting for him in the entryway.

The normal, easy lax skeleton looked unfittingly nervous and Sans let the day’s grime slip away to give Papy all of his attention. Worried something had happened, Pap was quick to reassure everything was fine. He briefly stuttered, his skull flushed a honeyed orange and blurted out he had something special for him and they had to go to their bedroom right this moment. Amusing his younger brother's antics, Sans not so much followed as he was tugged upstairs, one pauldron in the process of being shed.

Papyrus scooted Sans backwards into the room, gentle nudges and presses until he backed the smaller to their bed and leaned down to clack a light kiss on his teeth. He straightened quickly, blush back full force and mumbled a quick, “be right back, bro.” before scurrying out the door. He needed a moment, panicking slightly as he scooted into the bathroom for privacy. This was stupid, he was stupid.

With a huff of laughter, Sans dropped onto the bed and bent to shed his boots, lining them up carefully beside the side table and fiddled with the rest of his armor, unclasping the rest of the lopsided pauldron and twisted to get at the buckles at his side. Unclicking it, he withheld from groaning in relief. “PAPY?” He raised his voice to be heard. “WHAT’S TAKING SO LONG?”

“gimmie a minute bro,” he yelled back, returning his gaze to the bathroom mirror over the sink, lofting his orange hoodie higher up on his ribs. “i just need…” His cheeks burned. “a minute,” he finished in a hushed breath before shoving his sweatshirt down, smoothing the bulky material down and felt instantly better. Tugging on his sweatpants, they caught on the winged curve of his iliac crest and he cursed, wrestling with the material as he adjusted his slippers, forgoing his usual ratty, orange sneakers. Looking at himself in the mirror one more time, he turned and nothing looked out of place and with a slow determined inhale, held for as long as he could, he exhaled and nodded at himself. He needed a cigarette so bad.

Shuffling out and back to the bedroom, he slipped through quietly and closed the door with a sudden and absolute interest in the wood grain. Was that mahogany? He didn’t know what mahogany was suppose to look like but maybe he could make an impromptu trip the librarby and hide forever in the history section. With a sigh at himself, Papyrus shifted his gaze back to his brother who had waited patiently and smiled softly in return. There was a sudden rush of giddy warmth at the look of adoration Sans gave him. Do this for him.

“i, got ya a little something for our anniversary.”

The blank stare he received morphed into a sudden horrified realization when the large blue lights of his eyes widened comically but Pap was quick to cut off the building apology. “next week bro, its next week. i got a little impatient, that’s all.” Fiddling with the hem of his sweatshirt again, the blush returned as his spark of confidence petered out.

The bedsprings squeaked as Sans stood and crossed the room. “PAPY,” he uttered, voice reverent. He pulled the trembling hands from the gaudy clothing and drew them to his mouth to press a kiss to the spider webbed scarred knuckles.

Ducking his head, Papyrus wordlessly guided Sans’ hands to his waist. His brother took the hint with a cheeky tilt of his skull and slotted them around the covered crests, rubbing little teasing circles in the bone. Despite having to bend awkwardly to kiss, it was worth the crick in his neck as Papyrus peppered shy kisses along his bro’s forehead, drifting from one temple to the other. He squeezed his sockets shut when deft phalanges slipped under his sweatshirt and brushed against something different.

The elder brother gave a curious hum, trailing fingers along the waist of his sweatpants, finding another odd layer of cloth much more softer than the old, worn out pants he could have sworn he’d tossed out. With a gentle tug of the baggy sweatshirt, he drew it inward toward the hollow of his brother’s lower stomach and revealed the faintest hint of blue peeking up his sweatpants and stilled.

“it came in the mail today,” Papyrus answered the silent question hanging between them, still unable to meet his brother’s gaze. “ _blue_ your mind, huh?”

Someone in the back of his mind, Sans remembered seeing an opened and empty box on the coffee table before being dragged upstairs at Pap’s insistence. Other than a muttered scoff at the pun, he remained quiet, head tilted down as he ran his thumb along the tantalizing sliver of blue lace, the same hue that matched his magic and it was a detail that did not go unnoticed. His thumb dipped beneath the elastic band, sliding a fraction further down and… Toriel’s beard, it really was a pair of lacy panties 

Without warning, Sans swung into action. He bent, scooping his arms beneath Papyrus’ legs and back and gathered the lanky skeleton into his arms before trotting happily toward the bed.

“bro!” Pap clung dramatically, arms wrapping around his brother’s shoulder, legs trailing nearly to the ground and he was bounced once to settle comfortably. Sometimes he forgot how his strong his older bro really was as he was laid gently down on the bed.

“PLEASE? LET ME SEE.”

Pap nodded at the tender command, not trusting himself to speak and he lifted his hips to aid Sans as he quickly divested him of the hindering sweatpants and slippers.

Papyrus had indeed been wearing a pair of lacy blue panties with a dainty ruffled skirt already flattened by the careless sweatpants. It been paired with thigh high stockings and matching garter belt with strappy satin detailing, sporting a ruffled bow atop of each thigh. The stocking clung to his legs so perfectly as if tailored for the lithe bonework. Sans shifted to kneel between his parted legs and ran his hands mindlessly up and down his brother’s trembling femurs. The material felt so fragile, thin and delicate beneath his weathered fingers and he slid a phalange underneath the garter belt strap, testing the stretch of it before letting it snap back, earning a surprised jump. His hands trailed downward, purposefully and focused down to the stocking covered feet at his sides, running over the metatarsals and kneaded them gently.

Papyrus face felt like his skull was on fire as he gripped the sheets beneath him, unable to tear his gaze away from the ceiling. He focused on his breathing, keeping it controlled at the tender ministrations that left his bones tingling and warm until he felt hands on his hoodie. They tugged insistently and he sat up to help slid it up and over his head, dropping back onto the bed with a flop. Sans’ pleased inhale only deepened the blush he was sure his entire body sported.

To complete the look, he donned a keyhole bustier, trimmed in the same lacy ruffled skirt and though he technically didn’t have anything to fill it out, his broader framed helped stretch it across his ribs, allowing the slightly lopsided heart shaped cutout to reveal his sternum.

“PAPY,” Sans breathed. “YOU LOOK SO PRETTY.” He leaned down to kiss Papyrus in slow, gentle unhurried caresses, his hands never stopping from their exploration over a femur, catching the lacy design of the stocking. He took his time, moving up to his ribs and then further to cup his face as he deepened the last kiss, claiming his brother quickly and passionately. He suckled on the shy orange tongue before moving down his jaw, cervical spine and nibbled along his collarbone near the strap of the bustier.

Sans’ body kept Papyrus from closing his legs to rub his thighs together and instead squirmed under the attention, sighing happily. A shameless gasp had him clapping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment at the tone when Sans moved on to his sternum, lathing the expanse of bone with the warmth of a blue tongue before grinding down slowly.

The elder shifted into a more comfortable position and caught a whiff of himself and inwardly winched as he pulled away. “PAPY, I’M FILTHY. I NEED TO TAKE A SHOWER.”

“don’t stop, please.” His magic stirred coalescing quickly in his pelvic inlet to take the shape of a weeping cock and his face scrunched at the tight confines of his panties. He fidgeted, hands twitching to adjust himself better.

Sans zeroed in on the glow of magic, tongue catching on the edge of his teeth and the sweet cyan blue eye lights flickered darkly before he crammed himself further between those long, stocking clad legs. Catching them behind the knee, he pulled his brothers legs together, feet resting against his chest and he ran his hands up and down sleek tibias, carding a thumb in the light give of material between bones. He rolled his hips, pressing against the slight give of lanky limbs. Papyrus’ knees brushed against his ribs at each gentle thrust, the tender caresses along his body frustrating, leaving him eager and desperate for him. It was a building heat that consumed him slowly, the warmth spreading throughout his body. 

A hand stroked over his confined cock, magic spotting the sheer panties as he panted and writhed under the fondling, his attention split between the mindless thumbing over his legs and the heated press along his length. “saaans,” he moaned throatily, throwing an arm over his skull, hiding away his face as he tried to smother his voice down.

“NO, NO,” Sans gently chided, tugging at the hand on his mouth. “LET YOU HEAR YOUR SWEET NOISES, BROTHER.”

Papyrus bucked at that and there was a rustle of clothing as Sans pulled his own cock free, slipping the length over the band of his pants to let it sway heavily. He stroked himself slowly, rubbing against the lacy stockings with each steady rock, catching the tip along the garter belt with a light hiss. He worked Papyrus with the same deliberate pace, thumbing over the swollen head jutting out from the delicate garment.

Sans slipped a long leg over his shoulder, pressing a kiss to the inside of the knee. He dropped the other to spread his brother lewdly and gripped their lengths, fingers straining to encircle them both and rocked experimentally, enjoying the feel of his brother sliding against him.

Pap arched into the hold, pressing his head into the pillow. “sans,” he whined, hips jerking into the tight warm embrace. It’s was electricity in his bones, sparking and arcing, arousal pooling in his belly, spiking dangerously. Breath ragged, drawing in unnecessary air to cool the heat within him.

Leaning forward, not breaking his grip until their lengths were sandwiched between their bodies, Sans grunted as he rutted against the other fervently, movements growing erratic. He clacked a kiss to his Papyrus’ mouth, swirling his tongue against Paps to draw it into his, muffling his brother’s cries. He broke the kiss long enough to say in a low, husky voice pressed against bone. “Let big brother take care of you.”

It was too much, Papyrus never had the stamina to keep up with his brother’s pace and the brutal slam of bone and magic shoved him over the precipice. He came with a uncontrolled wail, throbbing in Sans’ hand, slicking the furious motions as the elder reached his end, lecherous sounds drowned out by the low growl. He continued stroking them until Papyrus pushed lightly at him, tears forming at the oversensitivity.

Collapsing atop of Papyrus, Sans was all too happy to smush his face against the lacy garment, basking in each other’s glow. A hand timidly found his clean hand and he intertwined their fingers immediately, drawing upon the loving pulses of their souls.

The chest beneath him trembled with light laughter and only at the careful nudge did Papyrus finally say, “guess i caught you in my _booby_ trap.” The audible groan vibrated along his sternum, tickling him as Sans remained facedown.


	10. Edgeplay – USPapyrus/UFSans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honeymustard, probably the first non bro ship I ever liked. Now I like and ship everything, I’m a dirty multishipper, but honeymustard holds a special place in my heart.
> 
> Still don’t have a set schedule to posting, I haven’t had any time or desire to write this past week. But! That just means Kinktober extends past October and ya’ll get smut for November and possible December.  
>  **WARNINGS:** Knife play, pain play, marrow/blood, language, smoking, poor communication, safeword usage, aftercare.

“ _red_.”

“ **i don’t want to do this**.”

Stretch sat back against the headboard of his messy bed, slouching in not quite defeat as he stared across the way to his boyfriend sitting hunched at the end. He tucked a leg under him, letting the other dangle off the edge and sighed. Red was impossible to read sometimes, his normal grim smile seemed a little tighter around the edges but the ease of his voice belayed nothing but his usual ire. Chewing on the end of a cigarette already burned down to the filter, Stretch paid little attention to it or the ash that clung to the front of his hoodie.

“ _can i ask-_ ”

“ **no**.”

He frowned at the curt interruption and Red pulled further into his jacket and fluff, as if hoping it’d cover him completely. He tucked his legs underneath him, resting the heel of his sneakers against the edge of the bedding. He left wisps of dirt on the rucked up comforter but Stretch could hardly care, more concerned about his partner. Maybe he could try one more time, open a line of dialogue. He inwardly winced, Blue would be proud of him though.

“ _is it because of your_ -”

“ **i don’t want to talk about it**!” Red snapped and the taller reflexively lofted his hands in a peaceful gesture, which only annoyed the fell monster more. Crimson eyes smoldered with agitated magic, glancing at him briefly from the corner of his socket before drifting back forward to stare across the room. He sunk further into his jacket, skull all but disappearing in the plush lined hood.

That wasn’t what he wanted at all. The hands fell limp at his sides with a soft defeated flop before Stretch slipped one into his hoodie pocket to root around for his lighter.

“ **beside ya**.”

Glancing sideways at the overflowing ashtray he spotted the rusty orange lighter sitting amidst the layer of ash on his side drawer table. “ _thanks_ ,” he mumbled, reaching for it and coaxed forth a flame with a practiced swipe of his thumb. He brought it to the stub of a cigarette in his mouth, paused, and exchanged it for a new one. Smoke curled around his skull and his body tingled at the first inhale of nicotine, holding it until the biological need to breath became too hard to ignore and exhaled. Drawing the dangling leg up, he stretched it out toward Red and pointed the dirty untied orange sneaker forward just as the monster started to pick at invisible threads on his jacket.

“ _what if…_ ” Stretch held up a finger at the rebuttal already forming, signifying he had more to say and he damn well was going to say it. He took another long drag, letting the bitterness fill nonexistent lungs before letting it quietly seep out of him, instead of exhaling. “ _we start with something you’ve been wanting to do for a while_.”

Red perked up at that, raising his head. “ **really**?”

Stretch’s sockets slid closed, counting slowly to keep the flicker of hurt from surfacing as he gave it careful consideration. “ _i don’t like hurting you_.”

“ **yer not.** ” He was quick to defend, shifting to face the other fully with an underlying flush to his skull. Once agitated magic shifted excited and focused eagerly, a stark contrast to the closed off monster.

“ _and then we ease into the other thing_.”

Red pulled back sharply, a minute flinch running through him before stilling once more. A slew of emotions flittered across his face, skeptical taking precedence before he slipped back to sulking, tugging the strings of his hood.

“ _i’m not going to push you red. if you say no, then that’s it. i wont ask again_.”

“ **okay**.” The single answer was so quiet, he almost missed it in the harsh exhale and the shark toothed monster grinned cockily at him, covering up the nervous gesture. “ **but it aint gonna do shit**.”

Stretch finished his cigarette, adding the butt to the overflowing pile and smoke curled around his easy grin. “ _let me be the judge of that_.”

It was close to a month before they actually had another night alone together, the house bereaved of other brothers and skeletons. No one needed to hear or judge their nighttime activities anyway. Red, the ever surprising individual and more experienced of the two, in this particular subject that is, had prepared well ahead of time. He’d set his boy down to give him a lengthy overview of what exactly they would be doing and while Stretch half expected a slide show with how serious Red took it, he was still surprised when the monster gave him a few Undernet articles to read. Far from the blushing wallflower and no stranger to the pleasures of the bone, Stretch found himself leaning a little on the more uncomfortable side. But, this was what Red liked and he’d just have to suck it up and deal with it.

“ _you really need all that_?” Leaning out the windowsill, Stretch tipped his head to blow a stream of smoke into the cold, open air. After Blue got on his case one too many times about the ash and smell, he’d opted to live dangerously. He watched Red set down a little jar of monster candy next to a few medical bandages of varying sizing, the more bigger ones making Stretch’s non existent stomach flip flop. Beside that on the cleared side table was a bottle of cleaning alcohol, that made him wince in sympathy of the impending sting, clean gauze and the more appropriate bottled water, warm blankets and Red’s favorite pillow.

“ **better to be safe than sorry**.” Red glanced over his shoulder and caught the uneasy look. “ **hey, come on. ya gotta be okay with this too. i** **agreed to yer horseshit feel good stuff**.”

“ _gee, thanks_.”

“ **ya know what I mean**.”

Stretch didn’t offer a rebuttal, instead flicking his cigarette out the window to vanish into the stark white snow and closed the window with a sharp downward tug before it could get any colder.

Red shrugged out of his jackets, giving the fluffy fringed hood a loving caress before setting it over a nearby chair. The rest of his clothes followed with less care, sneakers kicked off across the room, shorts and t-shirt tossed on the floor. He felt Stretch’s gaze on him as he debated taking his socks off, before those went.

“ **excuse me, my eyes are up here**.”

Stretch shrugged when Red grinned at him from his bent over pose. “ _can’t blame me, i’m an ass man_.” In contrast, the taller monster remained in his normal, familiar clothes. Red had said to dress comfortable and he didn’t have anything more comfortable than his hoodie.

Giving his bared sacrum a couple of quick pats, Red climbed onto the bed to lay on his back, rattling quietly with restrained nerves as he sighed. Wordlessly, Stretch followed and sank down beside him, hip brushing against his before leaning over him for a moment, wavering before pressing a kiss to his temple.

“ _safeword_?”

“ **reset**.”

“ _reset_.” He repeated it in confirmation and smiled, a recognizable softness returning to his features before dipping to kiss Red again, lingering as the first caress of magic washing over their connection. He sat up and reached for the tray that had an array of objects set on it. “ _color_?”

“ **green**.”

“ _good boy_.”

It’d been a simple color system they’d come up with; green, yellow and blue. Red didn’t quite fit for obvious reasons and so they’d gone with the next color they could think of. Green meant go, Yellow meant slow down, Blue meant stop but Reset put everything at a grand still.

Stretch reached for the first object and hesitated.

“ **color**?”

“… _green_.”

He’d start out simple, ease them both into this and Stretched went for the chilled butter knife. It was still sharp and dangerous in its own right to a couple of low HP monsters and both eyed it as he gingerly picked it up. The metal was cool in his hand as he tried to hold it loosely and not like he was about to shank someone and caught trembling crimson eye lights. With a slow, careful wave, he made sure Red could see and received a minute nod of acceptance. Flipping it, he pressed the flat side of the dull blade to Red’s clavicle, causing the other to jump.

“ **fuck, that’s cold**.”

Tipping it to it’s blunted side, Stretch trailed it down Red’s humerus, the faint scratch of metal on bone loud in the silence between them. It caught little fissures and old scars, earning little shivers. He ducked his head and planted a kiss to a healed break at the curved edge of the acromion bone, making up the sharp jut of his shoulder. “ _you’re so gorgeous, red_.”

Red felt his face burn at the light praise and screwed his sockets shut, giving a playful scoff. “ **shaddup**.”

Stretch focused as he flipped the knife again to the actual blade part and ran it light as a feather up the compact sternum. Red arched into it with quick inhale but he was quick to move it away before it could do any real damage.

“ _gotta stay still, babe_.” A tight nod, a forced groan and Red relaxed again. Stretch scrapped the knife sideways along the uppermost rib, curving his angle upward to leave the faintest mark and Red rattled, fisting a hand in the sheet beneath him. “ _that’s it, so good, so lovely for me_.”

A frown surfaced before the blade changed angles and went against the grain, ghosting downward to catch a particular deep nick and Red nearly purred. The brief flash of stinging pain faded into an enjoyable tingle.

Stretch trailed the blunt blade down to a hip, scraping it across the iliac crest and the sound wasn’t entirely unpleasant to him as he dipped it further along the flared ilium, drifting further and got an rewarding sigh and then an annoyed growl when he drew his hand back from completing the trip. Setting the warmed butter knife down, Stretch studied the other instruments lined up for use. They progressively got bigger and riskier and was glad Red had given him options. He picked the razor blade, still infinitely sharp but with its small size, he felt he had better control and held it in a firm grip.

Looking back to Red who watched with rapt attention, eye lights glued to the razor as Stretch moved it a little closer and waited for him to get used to its presence and could hear the rattle of bones as he desperately tried to hold back his trembling. A warm flush of red magic buzzed in his joints, alighting them with a tinge of color.

“ _color_?”

There was flutter of fear in his hollow stomach. “ **green**.” He returned without hesitation and held his breath when Stretch drew the blade down, pressing the flat side against his rounded zygomatic bone to ensure he didn’t flinch again. He held still like a champ and Stretch slid it slowly down, following the curve of bone down to his maxilla before sweeping back to the scarred eye socket. He tipped the blade at the last moment, catching the sharp edge on the orbit and Red groaned deeply, his entire body rolled into it.

“ _look at you, look how pretty you are_.” The blade moved away, replaced with a skeleton kiss just above the light burn of an invisible mark. “ _i can’t believe how damn lucky i am to be yours_.” Another kiss and Red shifted away.

Stretch hesitated long enough for Red to considering huffing at him before the blade was drawn back into his line of sight, sliding, sweeping through the air in simple lofting lines, weaving a path that scraped along his sternum. A ghost of false pain flashed through his body, cold, wet, sticky and he inhaled sharply. The ratting becoming more pronounced as his body compensated to flush with adrenaline, his soul pulsing in a mantra of delicious fear. He missed the frown directed at him as his sockets fluttered closed again.

“ _i love how patient you are.”_ Red huffed this time. “ _even when you pretend to not be_. _when I had to cram for my masters finals and i was so wound up from stress, you spent the night working on flash cards_.” Stretch chuckled at the memory. “ _damn flash cards and grilled me all night, even when i kept falling asleep. i aced them because of you._ ”

“ _you’re so kind and caring and a bit of a hardass._ ” Red’s grin twitched. “ _you’re an amazing bro too, so strong, took care of the both of you when you were just a babybones_.” Stretched shifted the blade away, letting it hover to the side of him and pressed a kiss to the corner of Red’s grin, trailing downward and murmured against bone. “ _you fill me with nothing but a warmth and admiration and i can’t get enough of it_.”

“ **stop it**.”

It was so quiet a response, if Stretch hadn’t been pressed against the smaller, he might not have heard it. The enjoyable flush along Red’s bone felt different now, brought on by a slew of other emotions he didn’t want to contend with and he squirmed and rolled his hips in hope of a distraction.

“ _can’t_ , Stretch continued, “ _you’re too perfect, wonderful_.” 

Red growled, annoyed. “ **shut up** ,” he snapped, grabbing for the hand that held the blade out. “ **and cut me**.” He shoved the blade down before Stretch could jerk back. A drop marrow welled up from the cut, translucent, fatty, a tint of red like blood, the color of his magic and flushed bones. Red sucked in a breath behind clenched teeth, his skull scrunching before relaxing into the heady rush.

“ _red_.”

“ **don’t stop**.” He ignored the pained, disappointed tone, too desperate to chase after his own pleasurable high.

Stretched stared unhappily at the marrow that continued to ooze from the cut, following it as it slid down the dull, scared bone and vanished behind the curve of a rib. He bent and lapped at it, using the flat broad side of his tongue to press and stop the bleeding.

Red’s breath caught in his throat at the soothing burn, “ **shit**.” And the continued kitten flicks of the tongue, sliding against bone and the barely there scrap of teeth, much too gentle for his liking. Fucking Stretch, always did this. “ **if yer gonna do that, better bite harder sweetheart. i aint gonna break**.”

There was a brief pause and the tongue retreated. “ _i might_ ,” he whispered. “ _i adore you red, your strength, your will, your stunning body_.” He punctuated each praise with a chaste kiss. “ _i adore you from your head to your toes_. _don’t hide from me, i want to see, see all of you_.”

The smaller monster had thrown an arm over his face, unwilling to open his eyes or deal with the look Stretch was giving him. “ **why are ya doin’ this**?”

“ _you don’t think you deserve this_?” Stretch nuzzled the crook of his cervical spine. “ _let me take care of you_.”

“ **reset**.”

There was a moment of silence before Stretched immediately pulled away and flicked the light on. A look of worried concern plastered itself across his skull as his hands shifted and hovered uselessly between them, unable to decided if he needed to sit still or wrap Red up in a hug.

“ **fuck, sorry, sorry**.” Growing at himself, Red pressed the heels of his hands to his sockets, grounding himself in the little bursts of light and pain as he fought to stop trembling. “ **i didn’t… i mean, fuck**.”

“ _it’s okay_.”

“ **no, it’s not. why you gotta say that shit to me, man**.”

“ _because i love you_.”

Red snorted and rolled over to his side away from his boyfriend and curled his arms around himself. He tucked his legs up just as he felt the bed shift as Stretch moved a little closer. From the corner of his socket, he watched him affix an orange bandaid over the still oozing cut and felt the soft, relaxing tingle of healing magic behind it. 

“ _i’m sorry_.”

“ **for loving me?** ”

“ _for pushing you_.” 

Red grunted.

“ _what do you want_?”

“ **just… can we lay here**?”

“ _yeah_.” It was quiet, almost relived sense of concede. Stretched scooted down to lay beside him, pulling a warm blanket up and over his naked form. Red turned to curl against him, a hand atop of his chest as he ducked his head down to avoid meeting Stretch’s concerned eye lights. Slowly, as if testing the waters, arms encircled him and Red huffed at the gentle sweep of fingers over the back of his skull.

“ **green**.”


	11. Orgasm Denial – SFSans/SFPapyrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of chapter 8 because I couldn’t leave those two alone. So far this has been my most difficult to write as this was written out of order, put off for as long as I dared and was actually written after chapter 14. Don’t know why, guess just research and my own writing insecurities. Anyways, wrote this listening to CRX Broken Bones.  
>  **WARNINGS:** Swapfellcest, ectodick, soul play, wax play, impact play, language, gags, blindfolds, vibrators, this is just a fun little list, isn’t it?

Papyrus whimpered, tugging on the confines of his restraints, voice muffled behind the bit gag firmly secured around his skull. The circular rings pressed snugly into the sharp planes of his cheeks while the rest was made out of a soft leather, treated and well made, a surprising plus considering his lord’s penchant for the more… stringent. It allowed for him to still make noise, albeit muffled and with great difficulty, pushed just beyond his teeth to prevent him from biting too hard. He’d been through plenty of ball gags, cutting cleanly through them.

His breath was loud in the waning silence as his eye lights darted to his lord’s face, then to his hand holding the red candlestick between two dainty fingers. Sans sat perched elegantly atop of the bed beside him, fully dressed, one leg crossed over the other and delicately swung it with just a hint of satisfaction. “WHAT’S THAT, MUTT?” He teased smugly. “YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO SPEAK UP?”

Papyrus groaned as the candle was tipped, dripping a thin translucent trail of red across his sternum, joining the other drying red lines that crisscrossed over his ribs. He shivered as the burning heat trailed inward, sticking to the softer more delicate inside of his bones. His handcuffs rattled again as he arched up as far as he could.

“HAVE NOTHING TO SAY, HMM?” Swirling the candle as it melted and pooled in the hollow middle, Sans rested his weight on one elbow planted on a clavicle and leaned down to blow against the new line of wax, letting harden and pull at bone. Papyrus moaned again as he moved further, leaving a teasing, cool path of air along his ribs, ticking him and his brother twisted slightly.

“THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS TO BAD DOGS,” he murmured against the sweaty skull and nipped at the jut of a cheekbone, earning a muffled moan. Sans followed with a dry laugh before tipping the candle along an exposed collarbone, painting more of it red.

Sitting back, he admired his work with the finesse of an artist, the lines that clashed and cut across his brother’s bones from neck to thighs were arranged with care, purposefully ignoring the swirl of unformed magic in the pelvic inlet. The flair of ilium crests were deliberately unmarred by red, no matter how tantalizing it would be to hear the hiss of wax on such pretty bonework.

Rubbing a gloved thumb along a rib, it caught and flaked off cooled pieces of wax, stripping the entire length with a rough claw and the pieces fell into his chest cavity. Papyrus squirmed at the foreign feeling and wrinkled the plastic sheet beneath him. His lord had been thoughtful enough to avoid the mess he’d leave and pushed his conjured tongue repetitively against the gag in his struggle to talk.

Sans noticed and held the candle up to his face in the low light. Papyrus’ gaze flicked once, daring him to dump it across his skull and got a minute shake of a head. The sharp, cold eyes shifted up to his hands, studying them before the smaller monster sighed, moving to stand and set the candle beside the bed where others had been lit.

“I THINK YOU’RE STARTING TO LIKE THIS ONE TOO MUCH AND WE CAN’T,” Papyrus could hear the smile in the words as Sans moved to rummage around the beautiful wooden cabinet where they kept their play things, his back turned. “HAVE THAT NOW, CAN WE?”

Papyrus attempted to answer and drooled on himself in the process. He whined again, attempting to roll to see what his brother was up to and watched the gentle sway of hips, a beautiful alabaster of white peeked tantalizing above his belt and delicately curved hipbones, perfect for his hands to engulf and press backward onto a bed. He admired the slender spine and limbs, so perfect and deadly. Many a monster underestimated his glorious brother and many a nights, Papyrus had rutted into his hand to those images, fierce and regal, proud little lord.

“I CAN FEEL YOU EYE FUCKING ME, DOG.”

His teeth shifted against the gag, biting down again as his mouth tried to quirk around the bit. The snap of leather stilled him before a shiver worked through his body, magic coursing strong through his pelvis and it was a brief struggle to keep it at bay. He hadn’t been given permission to form anything. He wasn’t allowed to. That was apart of his punishment after his brief little fun. Still, his body reacted all the same to the familiar sound and Sans glanced over his shoulder, knowingly.

He turned, brandishing a black flogger with the handle decorated with a single ribbon of blue woven into the bound herringbone weave. Sans stretched it taunt and it creaked with newness against the worn leather of his own gloves. If Papyrus could have formed magical little orange heart in his sockets, he would have. Instead, he shifted lewdly and received an eye roll before Sans gathered a few more things he couldn’t see before the monster made his way back to the bed and set them out of sight.

The first brush of the lashes, gathered like a dozen leather serpents, was swept across his ribs with little more than the weight of the flogger behind it, trailing up to tap the finishing knot between the dip of collarbones. Air whistled through his nose as Papyrus struggled to keep his excited breathing under control. Anticipation coiled through his bones, awaiting when the first strike would land and what delicious part of his body would sing in reply. His answer came when Sans flipped the balanced handle in hand and caught him across the lowermost ribs. Papyrus convulsed up into the thudding sting and broken pieces of wax sprinkled to the plastic underneath him.

A thankful moan burbled from behind the leather bit and the pulsing spot was caressed again by the trailing lashes only to come down a moment later, reigniting fading pain in lightening streaks. His lord was a cruel and talented master of the whip, inflicting pain with the torturous caress of loving intent, never giving him enough of either, making him ache for the lacing pleasure. Each strike brought him closer to an euphoria Sans would deny him in the end and Papyrus writhed under the blows, curling and jerking in his restraints, climbing higher until they stopped all together.

Papyrus dropped back on the bed, trembling, frustration edging into his muffled whine as he watched Sans set the flogger aside, carefully wrapping up the lashes. He thought he saw marrow drip from one but it surely was his imagination. His body throbbed exquisitely and his whine became softer when a warm, wet cloth was pressed to his collarbone. It stung wonderfully before fading into a soft buzzing ache as he was cleaned of the rest of the stubborn wax. Sans’ touch remained feather light, nearing a delicate teasing touch, dipping between ribs to catch the underside and Papyrus sighed, arching sideways when it became ticklish. 

“LOOK HOW DIRTY YOU ARE, PAPYRUS.” Sans tsked, sweeping the cloth down lower, dragging it across his brother’s lower spine and pumped once, enjoying the chocked response and hummed. “I LOVE THE SOUNDS YOU MAKE. BUT, YOU ARE NOT TO CUM.” Setting aside the cloth, he drew a knee upon the bed to position himself up and over Papyrus to sit facing him between his legs. An innocent shift brought his clothed pelvis nearly flush with Paps as he spread his legs, resting boots on either side of the other’s hips. Papyrus bones seemed to glow from the care, some faint red tints of the candle remained but they would fade with time.

“SUMMON YOUR SOUL,” he demanded, setting a hand on a bared femur and squeezed. Papyrus found reassurance in the grip, thumb brushing inconspicuously and his soul glowed from behind the safety of his ribs, giving into the command without a note of trepidation. The room was awash in a soft tangerine glow as it drifted upward into view and Papyrus averted his gaze to avoid looking at it. He felt hands cup it gently, drawing it toward the individual and a warm breath passed over it. He and the soul shivered in tandem as a finger lightly stroked the outside wall, tracing an old scar and a drop of magic oozed from the surface.

The light scoff only deepened the effect and Papyrus moaned, arching into the hold that fondled his soul, trailing teasing lines up and down the inverted heart, thumbing the curved indent before digging into the translucent soul. His body spasmed, legs jerking and kicking around the little body squeezed between them. Sans retaliated by purposefully grinding down on the unformed magic as he kept up his wicked teasing, drawing forth more stifled sounds that left a faint touch of color to his cheekbones.

“SUCH A LEWD DISPLAY, PAPY.” He huffed, rubbing small circles in the weeping soul, rivulets of glassy magic staining his gloves. Papyrus rocked up to met his grinding, magic buzzing in the flawed soul, reverberating through the faint connection even with the barrier of his gloves on. Lofting the soul to one hand and carefully cradled with the utmost care, Sans bent slightly to bring up one of the objects he carried over and slid the fluttering soul into a small cage, locking it up tightly and he tightened his grip on the cage when Papyrus bucked sharply under him. The act was instantly stifling, restricting the stormy pulse.

Papyrus panted around the gag, whining pitifully as he struggled to speak, worlds garbled and muffled behind leather and he was given a sharp cuff, immediately cutting off his whine. Barely there eye lights shifted to the cage as Sans leaned forward to unbuckle his gag and ease it from between sore teeth.

“please, please, m’lord, i can’t, i need, please,” he babbled uselessly, begging falling on deaf ears as Sans set the cage beside the bed, well within sight.

“DO YOU THINK I’M DONE?” He reached down again and plucked a handful of small, tapered rounded objects roughly a quarter in size and set to strapping them strategically to his ribs, curling one just underside his sternum and trailing down to his pelvis. His lord was certainly not playing fair, taking advantage of all of his secret spots, even the one behind his left hip. Fingertips scrapped and pulled, soothing over any uncomfortable sensations and then Sans sat back, resting his weight atop of the femurs between his knees.

He gave a little wave of the black remote in his hands and Papyrus groaned freely before the first one was flicked on, buzzing sharply along the left side of his ribs. His breath hitched at the sensation, reverberating the bone and just as he was starting to squirm, the vibrator cut out and one on his pelvis kicked on. The flared crest flushed at the sensation and his magic darkened in his pelvic inlet. It lasted only a moment before another picked up, never lasting longer than the initial shock before bleeding into another and his chest rumbled at the stuttered growl and he flexed against his restraints once more.

Papyrus was taunt under Sans, tense as he fought against his magic forming and the elder let the game go on for several agonizing minutes, watching with a predatory fondness as he writhed shamelessly in an attempt to get away from the building pleasure. A femur pressed upward and Sans ground down, riding it in one long drag before clicking the vibrator behind his hip and Pap gasped before all at once the buzzing stopped. The sweet release of the toys was almost enough to get him off, and he slumped and panted dizzily.

He was dimly aware of hands on his skull before his sockets were obscured by a soft blindfold and his vision gave way to absolute darkness. The gentle clack of teeth on his own in the façade of a chaste kiss had him leaning into it before Sans pulled away.

“I’M GOING TO LEAVE YOU HERE IN THE DARK AND YOU CAN THINK LONG AND HARD ABOUT WHAT LED YOU HERE, YOU MANGY MUTT.”

“p-please m’lord.” The comforting weight shifted off him as Sans stood. 

“QUIET! WHEN I RETURN, YOU BETTER NOT HAVE CUM OR I’LL LEAVE YOU TILL MORNING.” With little finesse, he flipped the vibrators back on and Papyrus keened sharply, arching painfully into the air. Free of the gag and able to vocalize, he was none too shy about it as his cries grew louder, filling the room with ragged breathes as his tongue lolled from between parted teeth.

Sans grinned wickedly, stepped away and made his way to the door where he made a show of opening it loudly and closing it with a bang before quietly moving back to watch the show. He’d never leave his brother like this, no matter what spat was between them. He masked his presence and magic, even so far as to dim his eye lights as he moved silently across the room to sit in his preferred chair, a high back, plush lounge chair.

At the sound of the door swinging open, Papyrus froze mid pant. “m’lord?” His voice caught mid sentence and he twisted his head toward it, feeling the chill of Snowdin outside before the door closed with a finality that made him grimace. He paused, absorbing his lord had actually left before tugging on his restraints with quick, precise jerks. Papyrus reveled in the ache of his bones of his previous thrashing, breath still heavy in his chest. “m’lord,” he tried again, pushing through the haze of the vibrators and got only silence in returned. Dropping his head back on the bed, the monster sighed dejectedly even as his body slowly, unconsciously rocked into the stimulation.

Sans leaned back in his chair, casually tossing a leg over an armrest as he trailed a gloved finger across his grin, greedily drinking in the pretty sounds his mutt was making. In his hand, he fiddled with the remote, fingers poised above toying with it and nudged one of the vibrator’s controls upward in agonizing increments and Papyrus rattled, a fine sheet of sweat slicking his bones.

He’d been holding back when his lord was here, but now, alone with only himself, he couldn’t help but feel exposed. He was defenseless should anyone come in and an unaccustomed thrill ran through him, heightening the feeling of the vibrations. He stifled a moan before deciding he didn’t need to. He was alone and could be as loud as he wanted. Their playroom had been soundproofed after the first time they’d gotten a little rambunctious and a noise complaint had been issued.

“m’lord, hhhngh, s… sans,” he whispered defiantly as if his lord would come bounding back to admonish him for use of his name. That thought alone trilled him even more, making the deep ache of his pelvis throb. He pictured his little lord standing above him, a perfect heel pressing down on his sacrum, calling him filthy, dirty names, loathing him for all of the awfulness he--

“no, no,” Papyrus grunted, struggling to dispel his forming magic. “fuck,” he hissed, unable to stop himself from creating a painfully hard cock. It jutted proudly, painfully swaying under his motions and already dribbled a shameful amount of translucent magic.

The vibrators had been keeping him on the cusp and now with his magic given an outlet, it was a true battle to maintain and he fought it with every ounce, desperation in his struggling movements. His soul felt so tight, buzzing uncomfortably ever since his lord worked him up. He could feel the confines of its container, pressing coldly against his soul, a stinging sensation compared to how warm his bones were. He wanted desperately to touch himself, to push him over that edge. Wanted Sans’ hands all over him, biting, scratching, clawing, leaving marks upon his body, his lord, his lover, his brother. The swarming heat was overwhelming him and he choked on his saliva, the darkness ramping up each and every touch and his soul was unbearably hot, pulsing heavily and there was no room, crowding, bearing down and he rutted shamelessly into the air, hoping for some sort of stimulation.

A sharp, gloved finger pressed underneath his cock at the base and if he had skin, he was certain he would have jumped clear out of it. The claw trailed teasingly up the length, swirling around the head before dipping briefly into the tip. Papyrus shuddered hard, toes curling as hands clawed useless, his face flushing a deep orange realizing his lord had never actually left him and watched him pathetically hump the air. He whimpered.

Sans would have to file that reaction away for later. He gave one languid pump and a gratifying moan returned. He said nothing, continuing his teasing trail down the length again, scraping lightly across hipbones, knowing above anything this drove Papyrus crazy and leaned down, nuzzling the face. “You’re doing so well, puppy.”

He moved back just enough to avoid Papyrus from turning to kiss him, tongue snaking out between his teeth and Sans caught it between two fingers. Papyrus can taste himself on the leather gloves and lavished them, cleaning them with urgency before the magical construct was tugged on. “BUT I DIDN’T GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO FORM ANYTHING.”

Wiping his hand on his younger brother’s face, smearing the salvia and magic in faint orange tinges, he gave a light shove before the hand moved away and Papyrus nearly chocked again when it returned, bereft of the glove. The rare touch of bare bone, his lord’s phalanges caressing and teasing with light touches that only felt like fire. His body was so sensitive, the vibrators never ceasing and the warm breath of his lord above him, leaving in haughty huffs as he laughed mirthlessly. It was too much.

“i’m gonna cum,” he warned, body tensing and a warm hand clamped down on his cock at the base, wrangling a strangled gasp from him at the sudden pressure and effectively cutting off his ability to do so.

“DID I SAY YOU COULD?”

“n-no,” Papyrus stuttered before he broke into a sharp whine he was certain he’d get cuffed for. Instead, he felt the sharp burn of something being slipped over his cock to fit snugly around the base. The wonderful hand left but the pressure remained and tears prickled his eye sockets, robbing him of the relief and a choked sob wrenched itself from his teeth.

Hands returned to his skull, tugging lightly on the blindfold before it slipped away. It took a few moments for his vision to stop blurring against the faint light and he focused on the face hovering above his. The wide eye sockets narrowed in concentration, the sharp gaze scrutinizing as it snapped up to his hands, looking for the use of an unspoken safe word. Finding nothing but clenched fists, Sans dropped his attention back to Papyrus mouth and grinned again at hearing nothing.

A hand crept down and toyed with the slit of his cock. “DID YOU FORGET YOU WERE BEING PUNISHED?” Sans flicked the tip sharply and Papyrus gurgled a hiss before the elder pulled off his other glove and dropped it unceremoniously atop of him. Wiggling the digits, he chuckled deeply and stood to stretch. Arching upward to give another tantalizing view of his hips and spine, he bent down at the waist with a purposeful slowness and his hand dropped out of view.

Papyrus tensed at the next thing his lord was going to bring into play before a simple, water stained book appeared in hand. There was a brief moment of confusion as Sans wandered off, flipping through the book leisurely as he plopped atop of his chair again, crossing his legs, fully immersed in his book. The casual unhurried flip of pages was oddly loud above the gentle rattling of bone and deliberately without looking up, Sans flipped up the controls of the vibrators all at once, uninterested in the writhing mess before him.


	12. Hand Jobs – GSans/USPapyrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is my personal rare pair and 100% self-indulgent. I say, as if nothing I write is ever self-indulgent. I wrote this entire thing listening to Queen, as one rightly should. So, I’m not dead and I will keep this going. Had a lot going on this month but I’d like to start back up on the kinks.  
>  **WARNINGS:** Ectodicks, ectotongue, language, smoking, implied swapcest and G!broscest. How does one even label the Gaster bros? Flimsy reasoning for the crossover  >_>, accidental voyeurism.

Falling into the rickety rolling chair, it squealed in protest but held the lithe frame, dipping slightly under the sway of weight as G set a heavy boot on the edge of the cluttered desk. He scrubbed a hand across his skull and a low groan slipped from his teeth as he tempted fate and leaned back. He’d been pouring over his father’s sketchy notes, scribbles in the corner of daily puzzle and splotchy ideas written on dirty napkins for days, with little sleep and a lot of booze. Too much booze. Not enough booze? It was never the right amount these days and he was running on fumes.

Alternates from another timeline had plopped into theirs, coming from an oddly backwards universe and he and Papyrus had taken it in stride. It wouldn’t be the first time something odd screwed up their timeline, and certainly wouldn’t be the last. After awkward introductions were had, they set to working on a way to get the brothers back to their world. Only problem was, their Gaster, before they had became apart of each other, had never created the machine and what little blueprints he had left behind, were slim pickings at best. It was a slow, arduous process, Stretch; the Papyrus of the swapped universe, helped in every way possible but it was clear he was just as clueless as them without an actual machine to start with.

Papyrus had taken an instant shinning to the little Sans, aptly named Blue. G saw the quiet glint in his brother’s gaze and knew. Blue didn’t stand a chance. More than once he’d hear a gasp, something dropping followed by light scolding. His brother could get pretty handsy when he wanted to and he had quite the talented mouth to follow.

The last time the scolding was interrupted with a light chuckle and a low moan and G knew when to excuse himself.

G could faintly hear the sounds from the other lab room, the quiet low voice of his brother and Blue’s muffled gasps and throaty moans for the past hour and while his brother was enjoying himself; the guy really did work too hard, he had actually stepped up to the plate to help. Deciphering hands was fairly easy, making sense of the rampant tangents was another matter. G spent his time smoking through a pack of cigarettes and casually sipping from a bottle of scotch as he went through his meager finds once more, hoping something would leap out at him.

Listening to his brother and the adorable alternate of himself wasn’t helping his concentration either and slowly it started to get to him. His magic buzzed quietly in his bones before ramping itself up enough to press uncomfortable against his pants. In indignant vague retaliation, G palmed himself distractedly as he continued his endeavor of note deciphering. He sighed quietly, smoke filtering through his nasal cavity to dissipate in a haze around him.

“ _need a hand_?” G looked up the slow, lazy drawl to spot Stretch standing in the open doorframe, a shoulder propped against one side. He chewed on a finished cigarette, more filter than stock and G recognized his brand. That’s where his last pack went, he thought idly as the other eyed him with an apperceive nod as if he’d been given a gift.

“How long you been waiting to use that one?” G had the basic modesty to move his hand away, returning it to the table to drum thoughtfully. “Pretty sure I locked that door.”

“ _are you insinuating i’ve been hanging around and waiting for you to drop trou and jerk it_?” A flicker of amusement creased Stretch’s grin at the quiet snort. He compulsively eyed the nearly empty pack on the table with a faint longing before stepping inside, closing the door behind him with a brush of a heel. “ _i’m not hearing a no_.”

G gave a halfhearted shrug.

“ _PAPY_!”

Blue’s cry of passion had two skulls turning in sync to listen, staring at the wall separating them from the muffled noises from the next room over. If G closed his sockets, he could just make out the slap of bone and ectoflesh, mewls of pleasure and accompanying grunts. The single yellow eye light drifted to watch Stretch and his reaction and his orbital bone raised a fraction in mild surprise at the honey blush that graced rounded cheekbones.

“You’re not jealous?” 

A bony shoulder hitched and dropped, “ _why should i be? shit, i’d let your bro fuck me if he asked_.” Staring a moment longer, Stretch ducked his head to banish the blush before shifting his attention back to the other and caught the barely there disbelief before it was smoothed away. “ _what? i got something on my face_?”

“Not yet.” G took in the subtleness of the other’s posture, an odd mixture of forced relaxation, both at ease and wary in the combination of untied sneakers and the clenched fist hidden in the oversized pocket of the orange hoodie. Didn’t think he’d ever see a Papyrus be caught wearing such uncouth attire. G couldn’t blame him for the wariness, though. Different universe, different rules and they hadn’t exactly met on perfect terms. Still, Stretch was a Papyrus through and through and the underlying longing to be accepted resonated to his inner Sans, softening his stance. The single eye light danced up and down once, the shape of bones and build hidden by baggy clothing and G wouldn’t deny he’d thought about what Stretch looked like under all of that soft gaudy shell.

He caught the quick, not so sneaky sideways glance to his pelvis, barely there eye lights wavering briefly. So similar to his Papyrus, so different. Dropping his boot on the table with a light thud and angry protest of the chair, G dragged a cigarette from the dwindling pack. “You’re welcome to help, if you think you’re up to it.” He kept his voice low, teasing edging into sultry as he lit his cigarette and drew deeply from it, the end flaring a deep, cherry red. He let the smoke drift from his ribs as he sat back and gave a casual wave toward his lap, just incase his intentions weren’t clear enough.

“ _ooo, a challenge_.” The ease of his grin belied the flush of his magic as he finally stubbed his own cigarette out, twisting the heel of his sneaker on the cement floor to make sure it was really out and casually strolled across the lab room. It’d been formally used as storage with a dozen or so unlabeled boxes piled around several filing cabinets and a couple of metal desks and chairs that had seen better days. It’d been a veritable tomb before anyone had cracked the old door open.

Stretch’s gaze slid purposefully downward toward the other’s pants before glancing around the room and grabbed an old, dusty, moth bitten blanket from the top of a pile of opened boxes. He dropped it at the feet of G and followed suit, plopping down unceremoniously and caught the flair of yellow magic as it deepened in the cracked socket, focusing with a glint. Stretched tipped his head back to look the other in the eye as the magic faded into a narrowed point of gold and gave him a grin and an audible wink before resting hands atop of his knees. He waited, watching for any sign of discomfort before trailing them up the rather impressive femurs to unbuckle the simple black belt. The quiet moment was filled with the rustle of a zipper and rustle of clothes before humming appreciatively as he worked the semi hard cock free of the garment.

Stretch gave a low whistle and gave the magical construct it’s proper due. “ _a shower and a grower. good on ya_.”

The huffed laugh sent a thin stream of smoke into the air above his head. “First time I’ve been complimented on my cock like that.”

The other monster hummed thoughtfully. “ _play your cards right and i might just do more than compliment_.” Shifting his weight to his knees, Stretch rested an elbow on G’s kneecap, propping his mandible in it. He wrapped slender fingers around the golden head, shades darker than his actual magic, and his touch remained light and gentle at the sigh above him. With a missed smirk, the lanky skeleton shifted his grip and proceeded to give the laziest hand job G had ever witnessed. The grip hadn’t changed, dragging curled fingers loosely over the length and the look of absolute boredom might have made G laugh at the absurdity of it, if his dick wasn’t in Stretch’s hand.

“All right, asshole, if you’re going to be like that, I’ll take it from he~re!”

Stretch had been waiting for that reaction and before the other could finish, he switched hands and gave one firm stroke from base to tip that had the other seeing stars. “ _what’s the matter, big boy? can’t handle me_?”

The achy creak of the chair as G widened his legs was all the wordless encouragement he needed. Nudging forward, the cock jumped in his hand when Stretch exhaled a warm breath of tickling air along the head. He chuckled softly and dragged a honeyed tongue along the inside of his teeth. He started slow, a practiced motion that had G rock hard and weeping. Stretch thumbed the head, spreading the beads of magic down the sides to make his movements more comfortable. Nothing said fun like a dry handy. He pressed the flat of his thumb, dragging it up the length before creating a warm tunnel with his fingers and alternated his grip as he stroked downward. On the upstroke, he twisted his grip carefully and followed with his other hand, curling fingers over the head. He was certain to pay extra attention to every little sound and reaction, adjusting his pace and grip to pull quiet moans from the scarred skull.

“ _you ever do any weird stuff with those_?”

It took him an embarrassingly slow blink and awkward stare before G realized he was jutting his chin toward his hands. He shifted one of his palms upward, flexing his fingers around the perfectly round hole that bore straight through his palm before curling them into a fist. “You’re some kind of freak, kid,” he muttered, zero malice behind his words as he leaned further back to lose himself in the unbroken caresses. Bone was always so oddly warm and comforting and feeling the warmth sliding along his cock was different and familiar.

Little sparks of magic tingled with each pass, Stretch’s hands were surprisingly thicker than Papyrus, rough and weathered like his own and fucking talented. It made him ache in different ways as he watched with lidded sockets at the hand gliding up his shaft. The other pressed at his base, moving in small, almost not there circles before trailing in ticklish lines upward. G found himself rocking slightly to meet the downward stroke and he tugged his nearly forgotten cigarette from his mouth, held in loose fingers as he clutched at the chair’s armrests and grunted.

“ _PAPY_!”

G had all of two seconds before the door was shoved open forcefully, a small body barreling through enthusiastically. The hybrid snapped forward in his chair to righten himself on instinct, nearly clocking Stretch in the head with his own and scooted forward to cover himself, bringing his ribs nearly flush against the table’s edge. He crowded the other who was hidden by the stack of haphazardly stacked boxes in the front of the table and there was a faint muffled curse and chuckle. 

“ _G_.” Blue jammed to a halt in the doorway and looked around, masking his disappointment with pleased grin at seeing him. “ _HAVE YOU SEEN PAPY? I NEED TO SPEAK WITH HIM RIGHT AWAY_.”

Stretch shifted uncomfortably, long limbs folded awkwardly as G all but shoved him under the table in his haste. He gripped a knee to better steady himself, tugging on it to alleviate a pinched bone and felt the faint trembling. G hadn’t dispelled his magic, not that he minded the up close and personal view of it and trailed a finger up the throbbing shaft. G’s hand dropped to his lap and flipped him off and he had to stifle his snort.

“Oh?” G rested an elbow on the table, chin propped in his hand as he adopted a look of utter, sleepy boredom. His ashen cigarette dangled between two fingers. “That wasn’t you calling for him for the last twenty minutes?”

A wicked idea formed and Stretch wriggled his conjured tongue before leaning forward to catch the extended middle finger and curled the honeyed appendage around it. The hand slipped from his reach and he received a warning tap for it before the hand retreated back to the table. Fine. Stretch gripped the golden cock and gave one strong stroke. 

Blue’s skull tinted his namesake and he stuttered, “ _I, THAT IS, NO, THAT WASN’T ME_!”

The hand returned just as he expecting and Stretch caught his tongue on the rim of the hole in the palm, trailing a wet path along the edge. G’s knee hit the underside of the table with a loud bang, barely missing Stretch’s head. Jackpot.

“ _ARE YOU OKAY_?” The monster took a step forward, concern already settling across his brow.

“Just fine, kiddo.” Taking a moment to gather himself, is voice came out husky and rushed as the tongue continued to circle his palm and Stretch slowly jerked him off. “Ha-have you seen my dear little brother?” He dropped his other hand atop of the table, arm outstretched as his fingers curled slowly, cigarette all but forgotten. His hips bucked causing the chair to squeak loudly. “I believe he was looking for you as well, t-thought I heard him call your name a few times.”

“ _I, UH, OH! THERE’S PAPY_.” Blue turned to avoid the embarrassing blush from spread and took a couple of steps back to lean out the doorway and look down the empty hallway. “ _I HAVE TO GO NOW. IF I SEE PAP, UH, YOUR PAPYRUS I’LL SEND HIM THIS WAY_.” He waved at the fake illusion of his brother outside, “ _COMING PAPY_!” He yelled before slamming the door closed behind him.

“Fuck,” G hissed, canting his hips into the hand and leaned back, pushing his chair backwards. Luckily Stretch followed, scooting along a knee as the other tipped his head to stare upward. The palm he’d been previously molesting moved to rest atop of his skull, guiding him closer with a low growl. Yellow magic burned brightly and unrestrained in his socket and it took everything in him to not shove himself further into the talented hands. “Shit, Stretch, I’m close.”

Stretch cheekily sped up, honey tongue slipping between teeth to dangle dangerously close to the engorged head, threatening to swipe across the leaking top. “yeah?” He dropped his voice into a timber so reminiscent of Pap. “ _why don’t you cum for me babe, cum for me sans_.”

Hearing his real name threw him and G seized forward with a low guttural moan, grunting quietly as his hips stuttered. He’d done this so many times, he’d learned to be quiet in a house shared with his brother. Stretched swallowed him down at the last second, milking him eagerly of the sharp and tangy magic with a few light strokes until the other fidgeted under the sensitivity and he pulled off with a loud pop. Sitting back on his heels, he used the sleeve of his hoodie to catch the remnants of magic on his teeth before swallowing. He grinned up at the panting visage as G slowly came down from his high, magic ebbing away into nothing and allowing him to buckle his pants back up.

G purred and pressed a palm to the flushed skull between his knees and Stretch nuzzled it, pressing a quick chaste kiss to the edge of the hole and felt the shudder run up the limb. “How about I return the favor?”

“ _nah_.”

He tipped back at that, unable to keep the surprise from his tone. “No?”

Stretched shrugged loosely. “ _didn’t do it to get my own rocks off. i’m good_.” Pushing off G’s knees, the lanky skeleton unfolded himself with a groan and stood, dusting his pants off as he straightened and leaned back on the table. “ _i mostly did it to see if you make the same face as my bro_.” His grin turned smug. “ _you do_.”

Twisting slightly, he grabbed the pack of discarded cigarettes, shook one out and quickly lit it, leaving the lighter atop of the pack for G. “ _speaking of my bro, i better go find him before he get’s worried. but uh_ ,” Stretch ran the tip of his thumb against his teeth, thoughtfully. “ _if you want to play a little midnight hanky panky lab assistants, i’d be up for it later. show you what else this tongue is good for_.” 

With magic still smoldering his socket, G stood with a slight height advantage due to the stooped slouch of Stretch and carded a hand against his cheekbone, curling fingertips around the gentle curve and pulled himself flush against the lanky body. He leaned forward, pressing the other back until his mouth lingered tantalizing close to Stretch’s.

“There you are, brother.” Papyrus entered the room, not bothering to knock as he pushed the door open with little flourish, a stack of folders tucked to his chest. He looked unbothered by the intimate pose of the two, assuming a brief scrunch of annoyance as he nudged his glasses up with the brush of a finger to the nose bridge. “Will you stop fraternizing for one moment, I think I may have found an answer to reading father’s atrocious handwriting.”

G chuckled good naturedly at the brief orange blush of his brother’s alternate and stepped. “Still pretty sure I locked that door,” he surmised distractedly, watching Stretch duck his head and scrub a hand over his skull. “Midnight, lab assistant?” 

That earned him a wiry, cocky grin as Stretch sat up from the table. “ _it’s a date_.” He gave a wave over his shoulder as he ducked out, purposefully keeping his gaze averted from his much taller counterpart.

Papyrus nodded absently as he riffled through a few pages in hand, mumbling as G grabbed his pack of smokes and stretched arms high above his head, taking his time to needle his impatient brother. “I could hear you.”

“Yes,” Papyrus returned, voice taking on a huskier timber as his sockets lidded knowingly as he continued looking through his paperwork. “I know.”


	13. Titfucking – UFSans/UTSans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s ya bois, Kustard! I was at a lost with this until that fucking meme popped into my head in the middle of work. I had to feign a straight face until I could excuse myself to wheeze quietly in the restroom. Sorry/not sorry.  
>  **WARNINGS:** Sancest, ectodick, ectoboobies, language, bad puns.

“hey red, look what i made.” 

Mandible propped in his hand, the aforementioned skeleton slouched heavily at the kitchenette table, skull bobbing lightly as he tried to keep from nodding off. He was still half asleep, a cooling cup of coffee clenched between phalanges, when he turned from the table to eye Sans standing in the open doorway. He clutched at the front of his jacket with both hands, keeping it pinned closed at odd intervals as if he were cold. His normal, lazy grin nearly rivaled a beaming Papyrus.

“ **huh**?” Red returned eloquently and stared at his boyfriend, blinking owlishly. “ **yer gonna fla** -”

Sans flung open his jacket revealing he had taken off his shirt, exposing ivory bone and to Red’s absolute surprise, a pair of magical breasts the color of his azure magic. Red stuttered, almost knocking his coffee over as he leaned precariously off the chair as Sans pulled his jacket to tuck it over the flared crest of his hips as he proudly strutted over. They weighed heavily against his ribcage, round and full and gave a subtle sway as he shifted, notably when he settled his hands on his hips and pushed his chest forward.

“see something you like?”

“ **fuck,** ” he wheezed, “ **warn a monster before ya do that**.” Sweat formed along his brow as the fell monster stared unabashedly at the pretty mounds. Normally small crimson eye lights flared brightly in his sockets, setting the large crack arcing up from one aglow with piqued interest. Especially when Sans squeezed his arms together, clasping his hands to twiddle thumbs much too innocently and the breasts pressed against one another ever so lovely. Only when Sans moved closer did Red suddenly avert his eyes and nervously sip at his coffee. “ **so uh, is that what yer were doing in the bathroom**?” 

“nah, i took a quick catnap in the tub, surprising very relaxing.” His grin never wavered, tugging at the corners with a little sparkle. “what’s the difference between a peeping tom and someone who’s just got out of the bath?” Red shook his head. “one is rude and nosey. the other is nude and rosy.”

Red snorted and spilled his coffee when Sans used the tactical joke to slid up closer, brushing against his arm. He could feel the warmth of them even through his jacket, followed by the shudder that ran through his boyfriend at the foreign sensation. He noted the light dusting of a blush coating his rounded cheeks.

“pap’s gunna be out of the house for the next-” He coyly looked behind him at the clock above the sink, brushing up against Red again before taking a step back. “fifteen minutes or so.” 

“ **uh huh**.” Papyrus had ran past him as he was trailed up the front walkway, trying very hard to not veer into the perfectly manicured hedges in his sleepy state. Papyrus had looked deep in thought, a furrow to his brow bone as he muttered about missing pepperoncini and shopping lists. He had nearly bowled Red over in his focused sprint, the other just barely stepping out of the way. Upon entering the house, Sans greeted him with a peck of a kiss, some coffee and immediately excused himself to the bathroom. Red shifted in his chair, turning body and attention completely to his boyfriend, abandoning his mug in favor of something much better.

“and i thought we could…” The previous budding confidence faltered as Sans trailed off, his blush deepening as he lost some of his nerve. He persevered and added quietly, “mess around a little.” 

“ **well shit, ya don’t gotta tell me twice. c’mere sweetheart**.” Red opened his arms wide in an invitation and Sans slipped into them, squeezing himself between parted knees and hovering just shy of pressing himself against the monster.

“i’m a little cold,” he pouted.

The crimson eye light narrowed dangerously. “ **how ‘bout i warm ya up** ,” he murmured and brought his hands up. Skirting past the ample bosom to his shoulders, he slipped them underneath the jacket, kneading the slim bone before shrugging off the jacket to let it slid demurely down his humerus, sagging around the elbow.

“i’d like that.”

Red trailed his hands across the beautiful clavicle, fighting against the urge to lean forward and clack a kiss against the pretty bonework. He worked his way inward, thumbing just where the magic started, enjoying the quiet exhale from the monster in front of him. Turning his hand, he brushed the back of his knuckles down the side one of the breasts, following the luscious curve as smoldering eye lights devoured the feast before him. Reverently, he palmed one, pleasantly surprised that he couldn’t fit his hand around the fullness of it. Slowly, he looked up to meet Sans’ gaze and gave two quick, light squeezes. “ **honk. honk**.”

Sans swatted at him as he busted out laughing, killing the serious frown he tried to muster. Red captured the flailing hand and dragged him back in, planting a kiss against the struggling grin. Sans froze, seizing up unable to contain the soft moan when the other crushed his chest against his ribs. Red could feel the pebbled nipples through his own clothing and purposefully shifted.

“ **little sensitive there, sure ya were just catnapping in there**?” The blue blush returned.

“ **were ya playing with them, thinking of me**?” The blush brightened, confirming his suspicions. “ **that’s fucking hot**.” 

“i can tell.” 

Red realized his magic had gotten ahead of him and pressed against the front of his shorts, tenting the material. He chuckled throatily and nuzzled Sans, nipping along his mandible and cervical spine, earning soft delicious tremors. His hands resumed their exploration, dragging from where he clutched Sans, ghosting across ticklish ribs and slid across the warmth of magic. He leaned back to have a better look at them, admiring them with a fond smile until Sans shifted consciously.

Red gently cupped one, letting the fullness of it fill his palm and brushed his thumb across a nipple. Ducking his head, Red dragged his tongue along the curve before capturing the bud carefully between his teeth and suckled lightly, enjoying Sans’ hitch of breath as he arched into his mouth. A shaky hand came up to cradle his skull encouraging, pressing lightly as Red swirled his tongue. Not one to leave things half done, Red palmed the other mound, fingers pressing and kneading the magic, pinching the other nipple and Sans gasped.

Hands scrambled for his head to pull him off and Sans clacked his teeth roughly against Reds, tongue flittering across them seeking entrance before giving a muffled huff as he leaned into the kiss. Red never missed a beat as he continued to pinch and pull at the tender buds.

Sans smiled against him, tongue stroking along his before he pulled back for a breath of air. “i want to try something,” he breathed and shuddered again at the aggressive tug before leaning away, the other skeleton nearly going with him but was stopped by a palm to his chest, holding him still.

Dropping to his knees, Sans grabbed Red’s knees and pushed them apart as the other shifted eagerly, hitching hips to allow his shorts to be tugged off, leaving them to hang awkwardly around his ankles. Sans leaned forward to press a kiss to the tip of his magic, already hard and waiting and wrapped a hand around the girth, stroking lightly.

Red groaned appreciatively and he leaned back in his chair and eye sockets slowly closed, only for them to snap wide open as something warm and wet trailed along his length. He watched in rapt silence as Sans opened his mouth wide to let a gob of saliva drip down, hand following to slick him up.

“ **oh shit** ,” he mumbled, hips pressing upward to meet with shallow thrusts. He whined at the loss of contact and cool air as Sans set his sticky hand on Red’s knee to shift closer.

Hands moved to his breasts and Sans made sure Red was watching as he brushed phalanges where his own were moments before, squeezing lightly and pressed forward to surrounding his cock, pushing lightly from the sides. The fell monster groaned at the incredible feeling. It was so warm and soft and he involuntarily hitched into the tightness, sliding between the velvety magic and let out of a purr of a growl.

Sans pushed down hesitantly, watching the translucent blue of his magic squeeze the crimson length as it glid between his breasts with ease. The tip peeked between the lush swell before he arched up. At the next downward sweep, a trail of red magic smeared and mixed with his saliva, tinting a faint purple against his chest and bones. Sans could feel the prickle of heat between his legs, slowly warming him up more. It was an experiment of pressure and movement, squeezing at different intervals to watch the flush of rose tint Red’s face as he held nothing back, guttural curses falling freely as he lolled his head back and kicked a leg out reflexively against the restrictive hold of his shorts.

Dragging a tongue across his teeth, Sans swept it across the throbbing head at the next downward pass and Red hissed. A hand caught his skull, resting heavily atop of his crown and followed the movements as Sans ducked his head down to let the length slid between his parted mouth and over his tongue.

“ **fuck yes, just like that, baby**.” He could feel himself getting close and fuck if he didn’t want to cum all over those gorgeous tits. Throwing a hand over his head, Red clutched at the chair to keep from sliding off the edge as his hips shamelessly rutted into the welcoming heat.

“ARE YOU TWO…” Papyrus’ voice cut across the kitchen, startling both and Red looked up to see Pap standing in the kitchen door, staring aghast at the two with orange tinted cheekbones. “ARE YOU SERIOUS? RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SPAGHETTI SALAD?!”

Red managed to glance to where Pap was pointing at the previously missed bowl of what was probably said salad. Sans groaned and would have buried his head in Red’s lap if he wasn’t in danger of shoving the still erect cock in his eye socket. A hand came up to cover himself as he hunched forward, sporting a pretty bright blue flush and wished nothing more than for the floor to open up and devour him. 

“AND WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING HERE, RED?” 

Red glanced down at Sans, the brief valley of his breasts shadowed as he pulled his jacket closed and the red slick of himself painted a pretty contrast against the blue magic. He shrugged, not bothering to pretend he had an iota of modesty. “ **needed some milk for my coffee**.”

Papyrus was not amused and Sans was caught between being mortified and wheezing with laughter, creating a confusing look.

“UGH,” he muttered, “SO UNSANITARY.” With an annoyed huff, he stomped in, grabbed the salad bowl and stomped out. “I’M GOING TO YOUR BROTHER’S HOUSE. HE’LL APPRECIATE MY CULINARY DELIGHTS UNLIKE SOME MONSTERS.”

Papyrus grabbed his coat and keys and shouted over his shoulder, “CLEAN UP YOUR MESS!” before the front door closed with a resounding slam, leaving them in silence.

Red relaxed, flopping back in the chair to laugh at the moment. Sans hadn’t moved, remaining hunched on the floor, eyes downcast. “ **you okay, sweetheart?** ”

It was a long moment before he nodded, adding a soft, “yeah.”

“ **good**.” Leaning forward, he cupped the blushing skull and tipped it up to meet his in a clack of a kiss that lingered, tasting himself briefly on Sans tongue. “ **what say you, we take a short cut to yer room and finish what we started**.”


	14. Incest – UTPapyrus/USSans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Considering a lot of pairings I’ve already written are brothers, this was a bit of an odd one, but I think I pulled it off all right. I usually headcanon all Sans as the older brother, but I like the idea of Blue being the younger one here. This one got a little silly in some places but I honestly don’t take the majority of my smut writing seriously. Merry Christmas my loves, here’s a little gift to tide you over till the new year.  
>  **WARNINGS:** Papayaberry, not my usual Blue, implied incest; actual fontcest and swapcest, not an actual lot of smut sorry, alcohol mention, drunkenness, flimsy plot, unnecessary emoticons.

It had been a desperate sort of confession. One brought on by too many nights of restless sleep, recalibrating puzzles until phalanges were frozen and late night slumber parties with each other. Blue had broken first and Papyrus had confessed he held the same feelings for his own brother. They commiserated their troubled thoughts, finding a kinship in their shame and loneliness. Their brothers deserved better and they could never let the others know.

Papyrus shot up, nearly clocking Blue in the face as he hung backwards off the couch, arms tucked around a pillow as they watched a movie together. Excitedly, Pap babbled on about a great and stupendous and wonderful plan and it took a moment before Blue returned the excitement, tumbling off the couch to stand on his feet.

“ _CAN WE_?”

“IT’S JUST LIKE PRETEND? AND SANS SAYS PLAYING PRETEND CAN’T HURT ANYONE BECAUSE IT’S PRETEND.”

“ _THEY WONT FIND OUT_?” Blue looked a trifle nervous, stealing a quick peek up the stairwell where Sans’ room was. His door was closed as per usual and faint uninterrupted snoring could be heard. They’d been careful about being quiet but with the both of them talking animatedly, Blue worried. “ _I DON’T WANT TO HURT PAPY_.” He plopped down on the couch, crossing his legs and hugged the pillow tightly to him, ignoring the slip of his bed shirt off a shoulder.

“WE ARE THE MAGIFICENT PAPYRUS AND SANSATIONAL SANS!” Papyrus proposed dramatically, thumping a fist against his chest, phalanges curled against the orange and white bone printed pajama top. “WE ARE MUCH TO CRAFTY FOR OUR LAZY BROTHERS. NYEH HEH HEH!”

The heroic cadence and vigor of his best friend propelled Blue forward again, jumping up from the couch to toss the pillow with a grand flair. “MWEH HEH HEH!” He ignored where it flopped and held out his hand for Papyrus to shake conspiratorially, sealing the deal to their greatest scheme yet. Blue bent forward eagerly as Pap leaned down to go over their plan, setting a date for their next sleepover.

When the next Friday came around and their respected elder brothers had taken their leave of absence, vowing to spend it at Grillby’s, Blue and Papyrus hadn’t complained. Judging from their goofy antics as they headed out the front door, they had already gotten into Stretch’s secret honey stash. Sans had hung back for a moment, making sure Papyrus locked the door behind them and yes, while they were both mighty and capable guardsmen in training, it was still an important safety measure. Blue tried to keep his eye light rolling to a minimum while his brother rooted around in his pockets for his cell phone until Sans dug up his. Phones, keys and several exasperated puns later, Papyrus shut the door soundly in his brother’s face and tried to ignore the muffled laughter from behind it.

Silenced waned in the quiet house as Blue watched from the couch as the two traipsed off down the road, bumping shoulders roughly to knock the other into a nearby snowpoff. The couch dipped as two knees settled beside him, Papyrus taking up the second vigilant watch and most certainly didn’t nervously tap his gloved hands on the cushioned backing. When both brothers vanished from sight, a light snow covering their fading footprints, only them did the two remaining skeletons glance at each other.

Blue smiled nervously and Papyrus felt himself returning it, patting his friend on the hand before he slipped off the couch to grab his sleeping bag on the nearby chair. It was a silent agreement and Blue reached for his backpack before following his friend up the stairwell. Climbing them didn’t quite feel ominous, but there was certainly a sudden seriousness that settled over the two.

“ _MAY I_?”

“HMM?” Blue’s hesitant question trailed off, pulling Papyrus from his thoughts and turned to see him gesturing toward the bathroom. He nodded, his grin feeling more like it’s usual cheery one. “OF COURSE!” Pap proffered his bag and exchanged it in favor of Blue’s backpack, inciting a bubbly laugh when their hands brushed against one another. This time their grins mirrored each other before Blue slipped inside, closing the door behind him.

A soft exhale between parted teeth and Blue was moving. His hands drifted to his scarf, untying the knot with a reverence before folding it neatly and reached for the bag. Inside, he pulled out a blue oversized jacket with a fluffy trim and felt his nose ridge tingle at the odd smell that wafted from it. Gingerly he sniffed again but couldn’t discern what the sharp smell was. With a grimace, he pulled it around his shoulders and slid his arms through, finding he had a tad smaller build then it’s previous wearer. He’d have to fold up the sleeves if he wanted use of his hands and set to doing that. It was warm and comfortable, he begrudgingly admitted and slipped his hands into the large pockets only to wince when phalanges met with something sticky. Pulling his hand free, Blue took stock of the used ketchup packet stuck to it. “ _EW_.”

It was now or never. With a determined nod, Papyrus filed away to his room and unzipped the backpack, dumping out a tumble of folded clothes and eyed the garish hoodie that he could feel the dirt oozing off and onto his clean bedding. He really hoped Blue had washed it before bringing it over. Divesting himself of his red scarf, setting it aside to drape carefully over the back of a chair, he took a deep breath, held it and dived head first into the orange hoodie, shoving his head through with a pained exhale. Before he could he even straighten it, he felt something poking him in his ribs. Slipping a hand underneath the hem, fingers snaked upward and come into contact with something hard and pulled out a half eaten lollypop. “GROSS.”

Dropping in with a tinny thunk into the nearby trashcan, he gave a startled nyeh at the gentle knock on his door. He whirled around, arms crossing over his ribs and stomach as if to hide himself and relaxed at Blue’s faint voice from the other side.

“ _MAY I COME IN_?”

“PLEASE, DO,” he called, picking up his phone from the bedside dresser to tap in a quick message. He fidgeted, stuffing one hand into the convenient roomy pocket and tried not to stand ramrod straight to avoid having too much of the hoodie touch his bones. He looked up as his message sent to see Blue peeking in and his infamous star eyes surfaced, glowering excitedly.

“ _WOWSERS, YOU LOOK JUST LIKE PAPY_.” Moving further into the room, Blue held his arms out to the side for inspection.

“YOU…” Papyrus tried to keep the disappointment from his tone. “YOU LOOK LIKE YOU IN MY BROTHER’S CLOTHES.”

“ _UM, WAIT_.” Closing his sockets, Blue concentrated for a moment before reopening them to reveal simple white eye lights. He dropped his grin into a more relaxed position, hooding his sockets slightly and Papyrus stuttered appreciatively. “ _BETTER_?”

Not trusting himself to speak, Papyrus only nodded and sat down on the edge of his bed. He paused before tapping the open space next to him and Blue blushed shyly before making his way over. Climbing atop it, he set his hands in his lap, looking down to fiddle with the folded sleeves. Beside him Papyrus fidgeted, folding his hands before setting them down at his side, brushing against Blue’s hip. He leaned a little over, gaze drifting along the far wall and Blue followed, leaning closer as he picked at a thread. The crown of his head connected with Papyrus’ jaw and the two winced before bursting into nervous giggles.

They were being absolutely ridiculous and Blue felt Papyrus settle his hand atop of him, turning it over to properly intertwine their phalanges. The gesture was gentle and Blue squeezed back reassuringly before he tipped his head back, pulling his friend’s hand into his lap to bring him closer and pressed a chaste kiss to his mandible. A puff of air danced across his brow and teeth clacked against his temple, returning the kiss with a sweet one and Papyrus hesitated.

It had been a sound idea of his, but once alone sitting in his bed together, he wasn’t entirely sure about going further. It felt, taboo. They were each others best friends, Undyne and Alphys excluded. “DO YOU WANT TO GO FIRST?”

He could feel the calculated pause, Blue’s smaller figure practically swallowed up in the ketchup stained jacket and the smaller met his gaze, blush still prominent. It was different from Sans azure magic, a deeper, warmer hue while Blue’s had a brighter wintery cast. “ _C-CAN YOU CALL ME BRO_?”

“SURE THING… BRO.”

Blue frowned. “ _THAT’S NOT._ ” He sighed. “ _YOU DON’T SOUND QUITE LIKE PAPY_.”

“OH?” Papyrus leaned back, his hand slipping from Blue’s.

“ _HE HAS MORE OF A QUIETER VOICE, RASPY FROM ALL THOSE GROSS CIGARETTES_.”

Papyrus nodded, curling a fist under his mandible in a thoughtful pose and stroked his jaw. He had pushed the heavy sleeve of the pilfered orange hoodie up to an elbow, leaving an expanse of creamy white bone exposed. In his mind, he went over Stretch’s atrocious mannerisms, the easy drawn out words. He could smell the staleness of cigarettes and the sickly sweet smell of old honey and what he really hoped was food stains in the faded spots along the hem.

Clearing his throat, Papyrus shifted a little and leaned toward Blue with a heavy lidded gaze he had often seen his lazy counterpart sporting. “Hey Bro.” He dropped his voice, mimicking the easy sway of Stretch’s voice, unhurried and lazy and pushed forward as Blue leaned away, only to realize how off balance he was before flopping back on the bed. Papyrus followed until he hovered over him, a smirk toying at his mouth. “You Look Sweet Enough To Eat.”

The noise that came out of Blue was most certainly not a nervous squeak.

“NYEH HEH HEH!!” Papyrus’ laughter exploded above him as the taller sat up, beaming and offered a hand to help his friend up. “PRETTY STUNNING,” he said proudly, puffing his chest out. “YOU TRY.”

“ _UH, OH_!” Pressing a hand to his cervical vertebrae, Blue tried his best to drop his voice. “SUP PAP.” He winced, unable to find the lower octave, finding it scratched at his magic. “H-HOW ABOUT THEM APOSTROPHE DOGS.” At Papyrus’ snort, Blue gave an indignant whap on his arm, a pout already forming. “ _I DON’T KNOW HOW YOUR BROTHER TALKS. HE JUST BROODS AND CRACKS TERRIBLE JOKES.”_ Blue tipped his head down, voice straining slightly. “ALPHYS BET ME A HUNDRED G I COULDN’T BUILD A CAR OUT OF SPAGHETTI. YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN HER FACE WHEN I DROVE PASTA.”

Papyrus scoffed, “SANS!” The instinctual scold died on his teeth and he looked pleasantly surprised at the knee jerk reaction and waved away Blue’s puzzlement. “ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DO THIS? WE CAN STOP NOW IF YOU WANT TO WAIT.”

Rubbing at his cheek, Blue shook his head and gave a determined answer. “ _NO, I’M READY_.” Taking a deep breath he leaned forward to press another kiss against Pap’s mouth, lingering this time and Papyrus nuzzled him back, tentatively bringing a hand to rest it on a narrow shoulder, thumbing the bone beneath the bulk of clothing. Blue’s own hand came up to encourage him further, trailing phalanges up the exposed radius and ulna.

Cupping his smooth cheekbone, Papyrus tilted his skull to take over the kiss and flicked his tongue along the wide teeth, making a soft sound when it was met with a shy blue one. Magic sparked at their connection, fizzling like sweet rock candy that reminded him of the time Sans found some in the dump when they were kids. Blue tasted sweet like it, the taste clashing with what he wondered Sans would actually taste like, muddling with the faint vinegar smell of the jacket.

At the hum against his teeth and the wet magic catching his own, Blue was surprised Papyrus tasted so earthy, like the seasonings he’d find in his tacos and not like the sweet honey his hoodie smelled like. He pressed back, growing bolder and curled his tongue around Pap’s with a muffled moan that was reciprocated, sending a tingling warmth down his spine. Papyrus was an unexpectedly fantastic kisser, despite the confession of never having properly kissed another Monster before. Blue wasn’t sure when he had grabbed a handful of orange, but he clung desperately and tugged Papyrus to him as he fell back.

The hand that had been unconsciously stroking his cheek thumped on the pillow beside his head for support and the taller loomed briefly, panting with lidded sockets. “SANS.” Fingers brushed against a hipbone, eliciting more tingling sparks. “I NEED YOU.”

“ _PAPY, PLEASE_.” It didn’t matter if Papyrus didn’t sound like his brother, Blue far too immersed in the moment to be embarrassed. He squirmed when the hand at his hip trailed upward, ghosting across his clothed ribs and rubbed softly to catch the delicate bones with each pass. His clenched his teeth until a whimper slipped free and he clapped a hand to his mouth just the teasing fingers slipped underneath his shirt to caress a floating rib.

“I Like That Sound, Bro.” Papyrus only just remembered his voice, ducking his head to trail a tentative tongue along an exposed rib as he rucked the shirt up further. Blue gasped and clutched at him, arching into it.

“ _PAPY_!” He frantically pushed at the skull, unsure if he wanted him closer or to stop all together as he struggled to bring himself back under control.

“SANS.” Papyrus dropped all pretense of masking his voice, drawing into a natural husky timber, confusing Blue for a swimming moment when the tongue danced up his ribs again.

“i can’t believe what i’m seeing.”

Blue’s head swiveled at the incredulous utterance, stomach dropping at the familiar heavy lilt. The simple white eye lights flickered in the round sockets, shrinking impossibly small as Sans stood in the center of his brother’s doorframe, a hand hanging midair when he first knocked on it and it swung open under the light force. His eye lights all but disappeared and his grip tightened on the skull, momentarily shoving Papyrus against his ribs at the second skeleton looming just behind Sans. Slack jawed, Stretch stared with empty sockets, forgotten lollypop dangling between his teeth.

“S-SAN!!” Papyrus untangled himself from Blue’s grasp, tugging away with a furious orange blush as the other scrambling to straighten his clothes, covering himself. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HOME?!”

“grillby cut us off…” Sans returned distractedly. “what are you doing, pap?”

“IT’S… IT’S NOT WHAT YOU THINK!”

“i don’t know what i’m thinking. am i…” He trailed off and squinted in concentration. “are we still drunk?” When he didn’t get a response, he turned back to his brother with a helpless hitch of his shoulders as if he couldn’t process his thoughts, swaying lightly on his feet. Stretched remained silent as he closed his teeth over his candy, crunching through it slowly as a frown started to form.

“YES!” Papyrus latched onto the opening, hating the way the lie spilled so easily from him. “YES, YOU’RE VERY DRUNK, THIS… IS A FEVOR DREAM! BLUE AND I ARE VERY DISSAPOINTED BUT WE L-LOVE YOU VERY MUCH, SO GO BACK TO BED AND DREAM US WONT SPEAK OF THIS EVER AGAIN.”

Blue squeaked and nodded.

“ _bro_?” Stretch took a step into the room, bumping into Sans as he massaged his nasal bone, staring through his phalanges at Papyrus.

“ _PAPY, PLEASE DON’T BE M-M-MAD_!” Tears welled up in Blue’s sockets at the awful frown directed at him and his breath hitched before he buried his skull in his hands, oversized sleeves covering his face. This was too much, he couldn’t stop the sudden rush of tears and the dread that crept into his chest, cheekbones glowing with magic. _It wasn’t, they were just, please don’t_ , he couldn’t get a proper sentence out as shame bubbled forth. “ _IT WAS JUST PRETEND_!” He finally wailed, voice muffled against cloth and the unexpected cry seemed to break the tension.

Snow covered sneakers padded across the carpet as Stretched moved instinctively to calm his little brother, sitting on the bed side him. “ _shhh, shh bro, it’s okay. i, i’m not mad_.” Carefully he wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a hug and Blue collapsed against him, burying his head against his middle and surrounding himself in the comforting smell of his brother. There was that subtle sweetness he missed. “ _just, a little confused… and drunk_.”

Papyrus scooted over dejectedly, head hanging low as his shoulders sagged to avoid meeting Sans’ gaze. He folded his bare hands in his lap, rubbing over the joints in a rhythmic pattern and wished he had his gloves.

“pap.” it was a gentle call that tugged at his soul and Papyrus slunk further into his hoodie, catching sight of Sans’ slippered feet standing in front of him. “come on bro, look at me.” He gave a silent shake of his head, earning a low chuckle before hands cupped his skull and gently tugged to make him look up. Almost immediately his sockets fall close, orange tear prickling at the corners. Thumbs brush against his zygomatic bones and Papyrus leaned into the familiar, pleasant feeling and scent. Slowly he opened his sockets and was met with a smiling, sleepy eyed Sans. “there you go.”

Blue rubbed his face against the orange hoodie, using it to dry away his embarrassing tears and mumbled quietly. “ _I’M SORRY PAPY_.”

Stretch rubbed small circles along his brother’s back. “ _sorry for what?_ ”

“ _I DIDN’T WANT YOU TO SEE ME_.”

Papyrus dropped his head again, slipping from his brother’s grasp and Sans remained silent to study him.

“ _yeah_ ,” Stretch huffed a quiet laugh. _“that was on me, sorta walked in on you guys. if you want to canoodle with your boyfriend, don’t let me stop_ -”

“ _HE’S NOT MY BOYFRIEND_!”

“I’M NOT HIS BOYFRIEND.”

Sans and Stretch glanced at each other at the dual response, Sans shrugging again. “so, uh, soon to be boyfriend?” At the quick shake of a head, Sans slumped a little. “eh, kinda figured with the wardrobe change and all.”

“ _i was wondering where my other hoodie went_.” There was zero anger in the amused curiosity.

“ _I STOLE IT_!” Crestfallen, Blue sat up, scrubbing his face with the back of a hand. “ _I’M A THEIF AND A DISGUSTING BROTHER_.”

“ _bro_.” Stretched started, only to be dramatically interrupted by his sweet counterpart.

“I TOO AM A DIRTY THIEF AND EQUALLY AWFUL BROTHER. Sans,” his voice caught. “I’M S-SO SORRY, I NEVER WANTED YOU TO KNOW!” He wrapped arms around the skeleton and dragged him forward to bury his face into the cushioned hoodie front.

“paps.” Sans whispered, a shaky hand came up to clumsily brush atop of his skull, scratching at the zigzagging coronal suture. The grip around his waist tightened as if he was afraid Sans would vanish.

“ _PAPY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH._ ”

“ _i love you t—_ ”

“ _NOT LIKE A BROTHER SHOULD_!” Tears were welling up again and Blue angrily scrubbed at them. “ _I LOVE YOU LIKE… LIKE…”_ He stuttered, flushed cheekbones growing brighter as he took a deep breath, gathering his strength from within. “ _I WANT TO KISS YOU, AND SNUGGLE WITH YOU, AND WATCH NTT ON THE COUCH, AND HOLDS HANDS._ ”

Voice muffled, it didn’t deter Papyrus. “I WANT TO BATHE IN ONLY YOUR KISSES SANS AND BUILD HEART SHAPED PUZZLES WITH YOU.”

“ _AND WE THOUGHT-_ ”

“WE COULD PLAY PRETEND AND-”

 _“YOU WOULDN’T KNOW HOW-_ ”

“AWFUL-”

 _“GROSS-_ ”

“DISGUSTING-”

“ _PATH_ \- _MMPH!_ ” Blue’s building tirade was cut short by the surprise clack of teeth against his and eye lights widened as Stretch effectively silenced him, tugging him closer into the smoky taste of honey and cigarettes.

The sudden silence made Papyrus stumble from his amped up rambling and glanced sideways when Blue didn’t follow through. His cheekbones tinted a heavier orange when he realized what the two were doing and snapped his gaze to Sans and felt his soul stutter when the sleepy smile drooped a little.

“i don’t think you’re any of those things, pap.” Leaning down, the elder pressed a soft kiss to the ridge of his nose and paused, letting the edge of his teeth graze against bone and Papyrus held back a shiver when his brother moved further down to kiss him gently on the mouth, bumping his nose when he wobbled a little. “but.”

He pulled back and Papyrus felt his soul sink. “i’m like super drunk and I want to make sure you know you’re doing. cause, shit…” He trailed off, squinting again and Papyrus couldn’t reprimand him about the language. “bro, i’ve,” he tried again, a shaky laughter rumbling from his ribs and gave a shake of his head in disbelief.

Papyrus gripped Sans’ sleeve to hold him steady, gaze beseechingly searching the wavering eye lights as they drifted everywhere but him, “TELL ME SANS.”

“i… i love ya, pap.” Sans’ naturally quiet tone grew fonder. “like how you want to love me.”

“LIKE A B-BOYFRIEND?” The hopefulness crept into his voice at the azure blush.

“yeah.”

Blue was drowning in hot, wet and not surprisingly sloppy kisses. Stretch hadn’t let up, crushing his brother to him as he dragged a honeyed tongue across parted teeth, swallowing each little sound as he pressed forward, teeth sliding against slick enamel in another drunken kiss. He broke away long enough to whisper sharply, “ _i don’t want you saying those things ever about yourself_.” Before dipping back down for another bruising kiss that left Blue breathless and dizzy.

“ _WOWZERS_ ,” he breathed, taking a moment to collect himself and his starry eyes shifted to Stretch’s hazy ones, instigating a nervous chuckle from the taller. A softer orange, so different from Papyrus, colored his rounded cheekbones.

“ _hope i didn’t read this wrong, because wow_.” His answer came in the form of Blue flinging his arms around his neck and tugging him back down into a longing kiss. The movement knocked him off balance and his hand slid against the bedding before he sprawled forward atop of his smaller brother with a muffled noise that faded into a low moan.

The bounce of the mattress pulled the others attention, finally taking notice of the two and both watched for a moment before Papyrus averted his gaze and Sans rubbed the back of his skull. Sans cleared his throat. “i think maybe we should talk a lot more about this. preferably in the morning when we’re a little more _sober_.”

Stretch climbed up finally, hovering over a very happy and blushing Blue. “ _uh, right. what d’ya say, sans, wanna go home_?” He received a cheerful giggle. “ _i’ll take that as a yes_.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Papyrus shifted slightly at the tickling buzz of his cell phone tucked into his armor, indicating he had received a text message. Setting down the screwdriver in his tool bag, he stood and dusted the snow from his knees. He had spent the later part of the morning working on his puzzles, bones still pleasantly humming from the night before. Sans and he had spent the better part of it talking and the subsequent make out session that followed wasn’t half bad either. Pulling the phone free he hummed softly at the soft glow of his cheekbones and smiled at Blue’s name.

WE DID IT.（⌒▽⌒）

Pap fiddled with his glove, tugging it off with his teeth to type correctly.

 OF COURSE!! WE’RE THE SANSATIONAL SANS AND MAGIFICENT PAPYRUS! (`･ω･)ゞ

It was only a brief moment before Blue replied. 

YOU WERE RIGHT, THEY JUST NEEDED THE RIGHT NUDGE. (^_−)☆ 

OUR BROTHERS MAY BE OLDER, BUT THEY’RE NOT ALWAYS THE SMARTEST. Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

 Sans was lucky to have such an amazing brother as himself to show the elder how amazing and cool he was and there was no shame in letting the younger one make the first move. It was the same with Blue and Stretch. Grillby had been a great help in getting them home on time, he would have to personally thank the elemental the next time he saw him. Their plan had worked out nicely. Wiggling his glove back on as he tucked his phone away, it buzzed one more time with another message.

I LIKED PLAYING PRETEND WITH YOU. (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ )

With cheeks brightening, Papyrus glanced behind him at the empty and quiet surrounding forest.

I DID TOO. (ꈍヮꈍ)˘ε˘ C)


	15. Sounding – SFSans/SFPapyrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m Swapfell trash, deal with it. Just a reminder, these are fake characters with magical dicks and are not tied down by human limitations. Please do your proper research if you wish to pursue any of the kinks I write.  
>  **WARNINGS:** Swapfellcest, ectodick, smidge of consensual pain play, language, food mention.

Papyrus knew something was up the moment he walked through the front door. Knocking the snow absently off his shoes, he trekked in small puddles of melted slush and struggled to stand upright after closing the door. He kept his coat on, enjoying the extra warmth that helped bleed the chill from his bones and paused in the entryway, tilting his skull at the humming he heard. It was quiet, subtle, the faint inflection of his lord’s voice coming from the kitchen. He really couldn’t carry a tune.

The length from the door to the kitchen was a daunting trip, swaying almost playfully on his feet as he shuffled tiredly. His shoulder caught the doorframe with a jarring thud and he stood silently, looming at the edge of the kitchen. Curling his hands into pockets to ease the frost bitten feeling from standing too long out in the cold smoking, he took a moment to watch Sans bustle about.

The elder had already shed his armor but kept the bare basics of his uniform, waiting for Papyrus to get home. In the meantime, he whisked through the kitchen, pulling out a few items from the cabinets and fridge. The knife in hand moved effortlessly across a mixture of fresh vegetables and cooked meat, dicing them into smaller chunks. The faint whiff of oregano and basil drifted in the air. Papyrus didn’t even know they had basil.

“YOU’RE LATE.” Without turning around or acknowledging his brother, Sans finished his dish before popping it into the oven and reached across to set the timer. He collected the small armada of dirty dishes to drop them into the sink, banging a few of them together with more force than necessary.

Papyrus shrugged at the harsh statement and hunched his shoulders, wavering slightly. His dark sockets were heavily lined with overused magic as he fought the urge to sprawl out on the kitchen floor. It’d been a while since he felt this tired, feeling like his own blue magic was trying to drag his body into a crumpled heap. He sagged further into his jacket, knowing Sans wouldn’t appreciate scuffing his nicely waxed floors. “the lapine branch ran into trouble by the river person. took care of it,” he finished dismissively, voice all but coming out in a strained quiet tone.

A heavy silence filled the space between them, comfortable and familiar and Papyrus could feel himself slipping away into the buzzing haze of his mind. Absently he scratched at his thumb in his pocket and picked at the bone, knowing the action was concealed by the thick material of his jacket. He itched to go back outside and finish his smokes, adding to the little pile of cigarette butts. But even the thought made him more tired.

“SIT DOWN.” Sans wiped his hands before removing the darkly colored apron he wore and spun around. Hands on his hips, he tipped his head back to glare at his brother until the skeleton passively leaned away from doorframe and struggled the few steps to the table.

Dragging a hand from his pocket, Papyrus grabbed the chair, tugged it out and all but collapsed into it. The legs scrapped nosily against tile and there was a faint creak of wood as his frame settled into it, legs stretched out. His head rolled loosely and watched Sans stalk toward him. A natural smirk fought its way to his teeth but it fizzled out before it could fully form. He was so damn tired and could only continue to watch as his little lord moved into his space, nudging his knees to widen them and give him room to stand. He couldn’t decipher the odd expression his brother was giving him, brow bones slowly drawing together in a disappointed line. 

With hands clenched painfully, Sans slowly forced himself to release them and curled his arms around Papyrus’ shoulders, pulling him forward until the taller could rest his skull against his chest. Reflexively Papyrus hitched against the first pulse of his soul. Sans’ magic was like a storm, brewing and raging, threatening to devour, buzzing along the surface and when it enveloped you, it was like a tidal wave, surrounding, drowning. His magic ebbed and flowed around his brother, coiling around him like a serpent, protecting what was his. Ungloved hands drifted upward to cradle his skull, one petting softly in a soothing gesture until Papyrus exhaled with a rattle and sagged against the small body.

“WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF, MUTT.” There was little harshness behind the accusation, the natural gruff of his lord hiding the very real concern that made his magic flair unrestrained. Sans felt the shrug against him and a vague answer in the rough huff that felt warm through his clothing. He scratched at the jagged line that cross his brother’s skull. “YOU ARE MINE,” he growled, tightening his grip. “MY GUARD DOG, MY SUBJECT, AND YOU ARE NOT PERMITTED TO TAX YOURSELF SO UNLESS I DEMAND IT. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU PROPERLY SLEPT?”

Papyrus shrugged again, a faint hitch of his shoulders and the petting paused long enough to give a quick cuff to the back of his head before resuming. Slowly, he struggled to lift his arms, feeling like the entire weight of the Underground was pressing in on him and wrapped them around Sans’ middle, completing the circle. He not so much pulled but willed the smaller body flush against him, selfishly clinging to his lord. It was a rarity to have these moments, even rarer for Sans willing to permit the disobedience of their carefully laid out laws. He was the dog, Sans was the master and the lowly beast did not ask anything of its owner. 

“UNACCEPTABLE.” Sans pulled away easily, Papyrus unable to keep his hands around the delicate spine and mutely stared at the floor. He missed the softening glare and the drop of hands from hips. “YOU WILL EAT UNTIL YOUR MAGIC IS RESTORED AND YOU ARE SATISFIED. THEN, YOU WILL SHOWER AND PRESENT YOURSELF IN MY BEDROOM AFTERWARDS.”

“… why?” Whenever they felt the need to spend that kind of time together, it was reserved for their playroom. The mere thought of it sent a welcoming tingle down his spine and he might had laughed at his ever-willing eagerness. Inside their home they had their own separate bedrooms and areas and it was a rare thing when he was allowed inside his lord’s bedroom.

The dull confusion his muddled brain had to wade through didn’t diminish the cool look Sans gave him, reminding him in the sharp flash of magic that left his sockets fluttering closed, of his place. “I’M IN A GIVING MOOD, PUPPY.” Sneakers squeaked against the floor and the same fluttering sockets widened with interest. “IF YOU WOULD PERFER TO BE ALONE TONIGHT, THAT IS ALSO ACCEPTABLE.”

Tired body be damned. Papyrus struggled to sit up, huffing out, “no, no, i want to be with you.”

“GOOD.”

Pap didn’t miss the flicker in the stoic, eye blue eye lights and said nothing about how they hazed in relief. The buzz of the timer going off cut their moment short as Sans spun around and marched across the kitchen for his oven mitts. The smell of cheese and spices wafted as soon as the dish was coerced from the oven. Sans made little work of platting it, Pap watching as a long string of gooey cheese stretched from the spatula to the plate and his chair scrapped loudly as he scooted closer to the table.

The clink of china against the wooden tabletop drew all of his focus as he realized Sans had made his favorite meal. He couldn’t remember the last time they ate together and instinctively closed his fingers around the fork pressed into his hand as he leaned forward to breath in the rich smell. While he was happy to eat cold ravioli out of a can, much to his brother’s disgust, having a warm full belly was a luxury he didn’t indulge in enough.

Bowing his head, he ate like a starving man, barely pausing long enough to make happy sounds and entertaining Sans who watched, chin in hand. When Papyrus finished, his lord picked up the dish and replaced it with a small bowl of nice cream drizzled with caramel syrup. Pap had to close to his mouth to keep from drooling on himself. Phalanges patted for a spoon, not wanting to take his gaze off the coveted dessert and watched sought out spoon appear from his side.

Sans dipped the utensil in the caramel, swirling it lightly before bringing it up to his mouth. A light blue tongue peeked from between his teeth and slid along the edge, tracing slowly to lick away the sticky drop, knowing he had the eager audience. At the low whine, he dropped the spoon into the bowl with a soft splat, caught the edge of Papyrus’ chin and tilted it downward toward the cold treat before walking away to clean up. He was a cruel and merciless master.

Papyrus felt like he won the fucking lottery and dug in with gusto, doing nothing to hide the quiet moan of appreciation. He savored each bite, letting it melt across his tongue and propped his chin on a hand, leaning heavily on it as he watched Sans at the sink. The methodical way he cleaned, scouring a dish several times, dunking it into the water and scrubbing three more before rinsing and stacking them off to the side, had him lulled into a peaceful quiet. The harshness of the day that clung to his bones and clothing slowly ebbed away, making him feel less heavy as the rush of food driven magic buzzed in his bones. The gentle sway of hipbones so delicately peeking from above the waistline of the dark uniform teased in flashes of ivory as Sans shifted his weight, absorbed in his work.

He probably should help. Dropping his spoon in his empty bowl, Papyrus shoved back on the chair and felt like it wasn’t quite the chore to simply exist as if had been before. Before he could take a step, Sans was beside him tapping his boot impatiently and pointed up the stairs. There was no biting command nor cuff to get him moving and Papyrus lingered, uncertain before he leaned down. Sans met him with a glare and the faintest icy blush when teeth gently brushed against his own, a marmalade tongue swiping across them before the taller hummed playfully and headed off toward the shower.

The harsh spray of water against tired bones made them sting pleasantly and Papyrus scrubbed at the grime, washing away the days sweat and dust and took stock of any new injuries he may have ignored in the day. Finding none, he concentrated on the heat pouring over his skull and down his spine. He would have stayed in the shower all night if he didn’t know something better was waiting for him. He made sure to clean all the places he usually missed out of laziness. His lord wouldn’t appreciate any filth in his bed. Except for his mutt.

Smiling reflexively at the warm towels waiting for him, his worn collar sitting atop of them, he noted the absence of his clothes, no doubt being run through the wash cycle. The collar was the first thing to be put on before he even thought about drying off and just as he was certain he had toweled the last stubborn bit of water, there was a heavy handed knock on the bathroom door. The door opened with a push before he could answer, Sans posed against the frame as if he’d been casually waiting. Papyrus didn’t miss the not so subtle raised brow bone as his nakedness was taken in, barely covered by the towel he had wrapped around his hips.

He automatically bent and Sans hooked a finger through the loop of his collar and walked him forward to his room, closing the door with a kick of a heel. He spun Papyrus around and tugged the collar down to clack teeth harshly against his and Papyrus tasted winter on the blue tongue that slid along the jagged line. He was dimly aware of his towel being whisked away before he was maneuvered backwards onto the bed until he was sprawled out on his back. Sans followed, climbing atop of him with a dark gleam in his sockets before lowering himself. If all they did was make out like a couple of horny teenagers, fuck, then that was all right with him.

Papyrus panted against the skull tucked under his chin, teeth scrapping along the scarred collarbone as Sans magic tingled on his teeth. His bones hummed from the warm shower and the still ongoing heated make out session, the attention that had been lavished on him for the last, shit, he didn’t even know the time, left him floating. His sockets drooped sleepily even as Sans scooted back to sit between his legs. Smaller legs were casually thrown over his to keep them flush against the bedding and Sans drew his hands up the strong femur bone, stopping just shy of the flared hipbones before sweeping back down. He repeated the motion as he massaged the bone and lightly dragged his claws downward. Papyrus’s body tensed briefly before relaxing further and a satisfied sigh drifted from him.

“WHAT IS IT YOU WANT?”

It took a moment for Sans’ voice to slip through the wonderful haze he was drifting in and only half a soul beat to decipher the sultry drop. Hooded eyes watched him back, hands still caressing his thighs as he waited for an answer. Everything said to pin Sans down roughly and fuck him hard, make him wail for him, and Papyrus’ renewed magic sparked to life fervently, coming together quick to form a sturdy cock already half hard.

Sans chuckled smugly. “I SEE. AND WHAT IS IT YOU THAT YOU WANT TO DO SO BADLY?” He hummed, questioningly as claws trailed upward toward hipbones.

“m’lord.” It was both an answer and a plea as the monster tilted his head up, straining to arch into the tender touch.

“NOT HERE,” he murmured, “NOT TONIGHT. IT IS YOU AND I, PAPYRUS.” His hands continued roving up and down, cruelly skipping his erection.

“i… i want, can we…”

“YOU’RE USUALLY SO FORWARD IN YOUR DESIRES, _BROTHER_.” That earned him a light shudder and Sans slipped forward a little as Papyrus drew a leg up, rocking up into him unconsciously. Gentle, barely there touches were what drove him crazy and Sans teased a trail down the edge of the iliac crests, following the curved and scarred pubic bone. He tipped to the side to press a kiss to the bent knee beside him before leaning back to rest hands upon bare feet and rubbed slowly.

“i want what we discussed in the play room.” This time there was no unusual stutter or hesitancy, a growling edge to the formally relaxed skeleton.

Sans paused before his mouth curled into a knowing smirk. “OH.” The single word was sultry and teasing, just shy of mocking in a merciful manner. Damn that inflection that brought a sudden blush to Papyrus’ cheekbones as his gaze met Sans. The amusement drifted in the snowy blue eye lights, pinning Papyrus with a look that made him shift under the intensity as he was regarded and scrutinized. He laved under it, ribs rising and falling with each deep breath as he was considered.

“ALL RIGHT.” Sans conceded with a light shrug. He’d been generous during their last scene, taking from them both a force that left them drained and satisfied, boundaries had been pushed and rewarded and they laid in a tangle of limbs and bones, unwilling to break the link that wove their souls and bodies together. He had offered his mutt an opportunity to try anything new. Papyrus has been a kid in a candy store, murmuring suggestions that made his breath hitch with excitement.

Smoothing once more the long legs caging him, Sans pressed his palms together and the faint glow emanated through the delicate bones, giving a teasing peek as the dueling colors of their magic set the room aglow. A brief moment of concentration before Sans drew his hands apart, producing a long, thin bone of blue magic barely the width of his smallest phalange. It was smooth and perfect and in lieu of a jagged edge, the tip was blunted smooth. It was still a deceiving weapon in the hands of his lord and if stabbed with enough force, could do damage. Sans wrapped his tongue around it, coating it in a thin translucent magic and dragged the length slowly across the sinuous tongue, feeling the hooded gaze on him.

Papyrus briefly eyed the bone construct before letting his head drop onto the pillow with a groan. He shifted unconsciously, spreading his legs further and let out a low purr at the small hand that wrapped around his cock. Sans was warm, phalanges gentle and confident as they stroked him a few times, clawed tips trailing over the flared head to gather the leaking magic. Sans toyed with the tip, threatening to slip a claw into the slit and Papyrus’s hips rolled upward.

“sans, please,” he whined as he tried to sit up, desperate to have contact whatever it was what he originally wanted or not. He needed Sans pressed against him, bury himself against the scarf covered neck and breath in the unique scent of magic, especially when he knew Sans hadn’t changed completely from his guard uniform. He also did enjoy a monster in uniform.

A raised finger halted his progress as it wagged in mock irritation. The light command following was nothing but reverent and promising as fangs threatened to drift into a smile. “LAY BACK AND LET YOUR BIG BROTHER TAKE CARE OF YOU.”

Papyrus hesitated, wanting to both watch and look away in anticipation and flopped back in defeat, throwing an arm over his face to peek under it in compromise. A groan rumbled from him again in exhausted frustration. He tensed at the first contact of the bone construct as the blunt end was pressed carefully into the slit of his cock. The lightest of pressures grew steadily as it was tenderly guided inward. He could make out of the shape of the bone, a hazy twilight blue through his translucent tangerine magic and was rooted to the image of it slipping further under its own gravity when Sans let go.

He shuddered under the light burn as it moved, but it was a pain that was easily overridden as his magic struggled to accommodate the slight discomfort of having something travel down the magical construct. The ache settled low in his pelvic cradle, spreading out blissfully into an oddly heightened pulse that wasn’t exactly fear. It was a new thing to try, it could be dangerous as was anything the brothers did, but Sans wouldn’t have commenced if he wasn’t properly prepared. The fact his brother had already delved into Papyrus’ whims warmed his soul. The confounding mix of emotions and sensitive throb rolled in his belly and a low moan slipped free, sockets fluttering closed as the bone finally reached a stopping point.

Sans watched patiently, ever vigilante for any sign of unwanted pain. He knew his brother enjoyed their playtime together and the pleasures he wrought from his sublime sibling through delicious teasing and tormenting, but there was a vast contrast between the two. He had to learn to see through the difference as Papyrus often lost himself, blurring the line in favor of pleasing his lord. And what kind of lord would he be if he didn’t look after his subject. Sans returned to stroking along a femur, rubbing his thumb in little circles at the tremble that traveled through the limb. “HOW DO YOU FEEL?”

“fucking amazing.” Was the rushed, raspy reply.

He allowed a complacent grin to slide into place, nudging his tongue along the back of his teeth as he scooted closer, just shy of his clothed pelvis brushing against Papyrus’ bared one. Drawing the bone back up, Pap purred again as Sans let it go, letting it sink back down. He traced a claw around the leaking head and gently pressed at the edges of the bone still protruding. His other hand cupped his brother’s length, keeping his grip purposefully light as he stroked up and down giving plenty of time to adjust.

A soft tangerine blush had spread across the scarred bones, glowing heavier along the joints as Papyrus’ magic hummed back. His hips rocked into Sans’ grip, relishing in the feel of coveted bone sliding against his cock and the needy groan was cut short when his lord pulled back the bone construct and pushed down, eliciting a new wave of burning pleasure as he was slowly fucked with shallow thrusts. Papyrus gasped, sharp and sweet and exhaled out a deep, shuddering moan, half whispered curses slipping between parted teeth.

“f-fuck, more.”

Sans continued the teasing trail of his thumb, catching the tip with a light flick before bringing the pad of his thumb over the bone construct as he waited for it to sink to a stop. He gave a light tap and Papyrus jolted as the end of the construct brushed against all too familiar and sensitive spot. A tremor wracked his entire body and broken moans spilled out between a sudden sob, overwhelmed by the sudden spike of intensity.

“AGAIN?” Seeing his dear puppy sprawled out underneath, pliant under his hands was undeniably arousing and Sans pushed it aside out of desire to give more. The construct moved fluidly, nearly frictionless down the passage and Papyrus panted, ribs expanding to draw in enough breath and a line of drool fell unnoticed as hands grasped fistfuls of the sheet beneath them, threatening to rent the soft material in pieces.

He couldn’t speak, nodding his head and making noises that he’d never heard himself make. It translates well enough and he was given another little tap, pressing against the spot that had him seeing stars. His hips kept shifting, rotating eagerly into the ache and each movement brought a different welcoming pain that burned more and more, threatening to devour him alive and he couldn’t stop moving.

Sans eventually had to use blue magic to keep his squirming down and Papyrus felt the unseen magic push him firmly into the mattress without a single finger on him. He was at the mercy of his brother as he writhed helplessly, the stroking in ragged contrast to the construct pressing into him, leaving him achingly hard and throbbing. His soul pulsed with a ravenous need and Sans was eager to give.

He was fucked harder, the construct incrementally growing bigger under the perfect control of his brother and it tottered on the edge of too much. He gasped frantically against the restraint, thrashing his head and his teeth ground against one another at the overload of sensations, ready to give himself up to it. The pleasure had been building and roiling, tumbling inside of him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. It was too soon, he didn’t want to cum yet, but Sans leaning over him with fangs bared and the unrestrained hunger setting his sockets aglow, he knew he was done for. He couldn’t cum with the construct still inside of him, prolonging the build up until spots danced in his vision.

“s-sans, shit, please,” he begged, words slurring, “sans i, oh god, please!”

After a cruel but brief contemplation of tormenting his puppy longer, he obliged and pulled the construct free with a barely concealed moan. Released of the blue magic, Papyrus tensed as his spine arched and Sans moved with him as he came with a strangled, quiet whimper. The sudden freedom left him dizzy, pulling the last dredges of his strength as the lithe hand continued to pump his cock through the crescendo of his high. His soul felt like it was going to burst and his mind blanked into a hazy bliss he was content to ride the rest of his orgasm through.

Eventually he drifted down from it, distantly hearing his own rough breath and he exhaled a happy sigh, loose boned and content with what he was sure was a dopy grin on his face. Papyrus trembled with the faint residual of pleasant aftershocks, even as his magic wisped away. He could do absolutely nothing, every limb heavy and useless. Sans banished the construct and glanced at his sticky hand and pressed his thumb and forefinger together, watching the tangerine strands stretch as he flexed fingers apart. He heard the tired huff below and without acknowledging him, caught the edge of hand with a slow languid lick of his tongue ad rolled the gathered magic in his mouth.

“tryna dust me?” Papyrus muttered even as his sockets fluttered closed again, tired smile tugging at his teeth at the tittered laugh above him. He instead moaned at the soft, warm press of cloth against his bones as Sans cleaned the both of them up, having set things aside beforehand. If he had the reserves, he would have been raring to gone when his lord briefly dipped the wet cloth into his pelvic inlet and his magic stirred sluggishly in reply. His head was wooly in a good way, still maintaining the satisfying floating sensation as he relaxed further.

The bed dipped when Sans was done and moved to pull a blanket up and over the both of them, curling against his side. Sans maneuvered one of his long arm around him when he felt Papyrus struggle to lift it and snuggled against his broad chest. Claws lightly skimmed across his ribs before reaching up to toy with the worn collar around his neck, flicking the metal loop. It clinked against bare, chipped bone, ringing for a clear headed thought for Papyrus. His socket’s snapped open. Sans hadn’t gotten off, his lord needed him.

“SHUSH.” The hand tapped his sternum as if Sans could read his thoughts. “LATER. YOU WILL SLEEP IN MY BED TONIGHT TO ENSURE PROPER REST. I CANNOT HAVE YOU STUMBLING OVER YOURSELF LIKE A COMMON FOOL.” He pressed his skull in to the crook of his shoulder, resuming his rib tracing, content to use the younger as a pillow. “I WANT MY DOG AT ONE HUNDRED PERCENT. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

“…yeah.” The twitch of a grin faded as he closed his eyes, his brother’s magic curling around him in the following quiet.


	16. Pegging – USUndyne/USPapyrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m a solid adorable girlfriends shipper, I personally don’t like breaking them apart or shipping them with others (I like reading it though) but, I’m also a dirty sinner and I see their friendship so… casual? Friends with benefits, amirte? So here ya go fellow sinners.  
>  **WARNINGS:** Implied  swapcest, Alphyne, ectodick, ectopussy, handjob, fingering, penetration sex, language, smoking, alcohol/drinking, lousy puns, just the worse puns.

“did I catch you at a bad time?”

Undyne shrieked as she seized forward, spinning around in her chair in panic. She clutched the object she’d been carefully scrutinizing to her chest as she stared up over the rim of her crooked glasses at the lone, orange hooded skeleton standing behind her. A cigarette dangled between his teeth, one hand tucked loosely into a pocket and the other scratched his brow bone before he dropped it, allowing for an unobstructed view of the harness and rather dominating blue dildo in her hands.

There was a beat of pure mortifying silence.

“when you said you wanted to talk, figured it was something important.”

Undyne wished spontaneous combustion was a real thing, she certainly felt like she was on fire as she blushed three different shades of purple. The monster scrambled to do something, twisting in her chair only to realize she still had the harnessed toy in her hands.

Papyrus watched amusedly as his friend turned circles in her chair. He supposed he had surprised her by porting inside, but after knocking for a solid five minutes he decided to take a short cut. “dooo you, need a minute?”

Undyne spluttered, adding a fourth interesting shade of lilac to the tips of her ruby ears.

Papyrus waved his cigarette in a vague round about gesture, ash floating freely from it onto the floor of the lab, giving his friend a way out. “thought maybe your anime boyfriend got engaged or whatever.”

The large rimmed glasses shimmered with sudden tears as the scientist stopped her agitated spinning. “I,” her voice broke, dropping her head, “I don’t want to talk about that. It’s still too painful.

“… kay.” Pap fought to keep his grin at bay. “so… you wanted to talk?”

“Well, this is actually what I want to talk to you about.” Undyne lofted the harnessed dildo, refusing to look up. “D-do you want a beer?”

“i think i’m going to need a six pack for whatever this conversation is gonna be about.”

“Fair enough.”

____________________

 

Several beers later, the two sat at Undyne’s desk in mismatching swivel chairs, alcohol giving the female monster just enough liquid courage to start talking. She peeled the faded sticker label from the edge of her empty bottle, adding to the little ripped pieces at her feet. “I wanted to, I m-mean, Alphys and I…” She inhaled quickly, her gaze glued to the bottle. “we, we’ve been dating for a long time now.”

Papyrus nodded, adding a quiet hum to indicate he was listening as he leaned back in the other chair.

“And we’ve gotten in-intimate.”

“congratulations?”

Undyne sent a withering look over the rim of her glasses and Papyrus snorted when it faded quickly, another hot blush settling across her cheeks. “And we wanted to try something d-different. I… I want to, to be the tachi to her neko.”

“i don’t know what that means.”

“The uke to her seme?”

“still lost.”

“The Sans to her Pap?”

It was Papyrus’ turn for his cheekbones to warm. “i told you that in private.”

Undyne squeaked, ducking her head to let the wave of frizzy red bangs act as a barrier. “And I h-haven’t told anyone, I p-p-promise! Not even Alphys. I mean, maybe not Alphys.” There was a long, guilty pause. “… I told Alphys.”

Papyrus groaned, “‘dyyyyyyne.”

“I’m sorry Pap. She’s just so…,” Undyne trembled and let out a dreamy sigh as she crossed her arms to hold herself. “Forceful.”

“gross.” A brief flash in the overly large glasses felt like she’d punch him if she could. “sorry, go on,” he said, finishing up the last of his warm beer and tossed it in the nearby overflowing trashcan.

“I don’t have a lot of,” she hesitated. “friends, people I can trust with this. And I c-can’t just ask anyone. What would people think? Oh Toriel, what do you think?!” Undyne cupped her face, giving it a quick shake. “You think I’m gross and weird!”

Undyne could be a little over the top in her antics, prone to fall into a self deprecation mode and Papyrus was all too familiar with them. He was quick to cut her off before she could launch into a full blown sabotaging tirade. “i don’t think you’re weird and gross. just a little weird and gross.”

Undyne dropped her hands slowly, smiling weakly. “We-we’re friends?”

The hesitancy in her voice was enough for Papyrus to feel like a tool about their scattered friendship. It was a rarity he came to the labs, not caring for the heat of Hotlands. He didn’t know how Undyne managed it. “yeah,” he answered without pause. “we’re friends.”

It was like a damn rainbow coming out of a storm when she smiled for real. Her cheeks still tinged a faint lilac, she took a deep breath. “Okay.” She stuttered, sighed at herself. “It’s just we’ve never…”

Pap raised a brow bone to watch her tap fingertips together, garishly painted and chipped claws clacking against one another. He pulled a cigarette from his crumbled pack and lit one up, Undyne saying nothing about it, focused on talking.

“I mean we have. Lots of times, but I’ve never, been the… you know. On top?”

“oh.” Because what else was he was suppose to say? He’d already found out more about his friend’s love life than he felt he needed to know. “you need advice?”

“M-more than that.” Fiddling with the lapel of her lab coat, the scientist eyed the toy she’d set atop of a stack of papers, blue dildo jutting tauntingly upward.

“so, you want to use my body for practice?”

“D-don’t say it like that!” Aghast, a royal purple spread across her face again.

Pap grinned cheekily in spite of the honey blush he sported.

“I’ve done a ton of reading and research.” She leaned over to pluck a thick folder from a stack of them and plunked it atop of Papyrus’s lap, forcing him to catch it before it slid off.

“And I’ve watched many videos on the internet. Like a metric ton,” she snorted at her joke. “so many… informational videos.” She paused to wipe her fogged glasses before setting them back on her face. “But, that’s porn and a highly unrealistic approach to p-proper love making. The standards of today have really gone down the can.”

Papyrus casually flipped through the folder. “you’re just a regular ol’ perv, arn’tcha?”

Undyne groaned into her hands.

“’dyne, chill, i’m fuckin’ with ya.”

“I thought maybe, if I could just run an exercise, have the real hands on experience, I could compare it to my data and surmise an approximation of… of, doing a good job?” She added meekly.

Pap flipped the folder closed and added it to the mess on the desk. “you gunna at least buy me dinner?”

“… I have ramen noodles in the cabinet?” She replied distantly.

“eh, i’ll pass, stuff goes right through me.” Taking one last drag of his cigarette, he stubbed it out in the ashtray that had a collection of different branded filters stubbed out in it. “so, do you want to do it here or…” He trailed off, letting his words sink in.

“Ooooo Toriel’s beard. Wait.” Undyne sat up. “So you’re saying yes to helping me? B-because,” she stumbled forward, words slowly blurring together the faster she rambled. “I realize this is a highly unorthodox thing to ask a friend and I don’t really t-trust looking for paid help. Not that there’s anything wrong with it! M-more power to them, but.” She groaned again, losing steam. “Just dust me now.”

Papyrus chuckled. “don’t think your girl al would appreciate that. she okay, you know, with this?” He gestured between them, including the toy in the sweep of his hand.

“I haven’t really talked to her about this, I wanted to do this on my own and surprise her. We do have an open relationship and have talked about other partners but nothing concrete. N-not that I’m considering you as a partner, no, ew. I mean! I don’t mean ew, but also… ew?”

Papyrus held up a placating hand. “i get it. strictly business, helping out a friend.”

“This seems so bizarre now that I’ve said it out loud.”

“you technically didn’t ask me anything.” He could help but needle her a little.

Undyne whined, “Please don’t make me actually say it.”

“communication is a sign of a healthy relationship,” he countered.

“Says you, torch bearer,” she snapped back.

“touché,” he finished with a light shrug.

There was a moment of awkward silence.

“What ab-bout my room, it’s a little more secluded?”

____________________

 

Seclusion was an optimistic outlook, Undyne’s room being more of an open loft slash workspace than actual bedroom. Still it was cozy and open, her bed pushed up against the wall, messy sheets a polka dotted yellow and blue. She had assured Papyrus they were clean but clean was a relatively subjective term in Undyne’s mind. The three anime body pillows; Undyne had called them dakimakura, were pilled atop of it, a variety of human looking anime characters and a giant robot. Posters littered the walls, some of various anime he’d grown accustomed to, a few odd human movie ones and a couple of Napstatton’s shows. The anime figures, however, were not doing it for him. There was littered everywhere there was a flat surface ranging from the cute and tiny to buxom and barely clothed, positioned in thinly veiled sexual poses, glassy eyed and staring back at it, judgingly. He appreciated the ones with very large swords.

Undyne remained dressed, the mere suggestion of taking off her lab coat nearly sent her into a tizzy and Papyrus had opted to keep things as simple and comfortable as possible. He decided to do away with his sweatpants all together, finding it was easier that way. Undyne fiddled with the harness, affixing it over her pants as she slipped the pearlescent toy inside. Pap had warned her about bodily fluids and stains and she had cheerfully replied back, that her clothing was a hundred percent stain proof, a little gimmick she created to avoid embarrassing splotches or food spills.

After a few more minutes of useless fiddling, Undyne gave a little jiggle of her hips, watching the toy bob up and down. “O-okay, I’m ready. Are you?”

“eh,” he shrugged. Gathering the bulk of his hoodie, he held it up with an arm tucked around his chest, showing off a good amount of spine, floating ribs and naked pelvis alit with a faint honey glow.

Undyne’s gaze drifted downward as his magic coalesced into a cock, already half hard. She slapped a hand over her eyes, ear fins giving a frightful flap. “Pap! That’s not, I was talking about, t-t-that-”

“hey, undyne.”

Peeling her hand away, she was subjected to a swap of bony hips, causing the fairly impressive length of magic to dance along. “Oh my Angel!” She tried to quell the ridiculous snort of laughter, baring fangs as she failed miserably.

“look, i can helicopter it too.”

“I’m Not Looking!” She punctuated it by covering her already closed eyes.

“you can do it too.”

That made her pause and regroup herself to peek through fingers as the skeleton swung his hips with more gusto. “I swear on the Angel, Pap.”

“just try it, ‘dyne. you never know, al might dig it.”

With a conceding sigh, she gave a vague thrust of her hips, the toy bobbing along and got a quiet nyehehe in reply.

“try rotating your hips and bend your knees more.”

Undyne complied awkwardly, face permanently purple as she attempted to follow along without actually looking at her friend. This was so ridiculous and stupid. The nervous butterflies that had been flittering around in her stomach slowly dissipated as she giggled quietly, gaining more confidence until she was certain one of them was going to be able to take off.

With tears in her eyes and Papyrus wheezing, they finally calmed down from their little bout of insanity and Undyne tugged off her glasses, wiping them on the edge of her shirt. “Pap,” she said, voice still trembling with the last bout of giggles. “I’m going to honest with you. I don’t think I can work with,” she gestured toward his pelvis. “It’s not conducive to my original plan.”

“yeah, okay, no sweat. i got you fam.” Closing one socket in concentration, the honey colored magic glowed brighter within his pelvic cavity. “this better?”

Nudging her glasses back on, Undyne squinted, not seeing anything different until her friend gave a helpful hand, tracing his fingers lower. “Both?” She asked, astonished.

“i’m a greedy bitch, what can i say.”

Undyne’s gaze hazed slightly as she stared over his shoulder. “ooooOOOohhhh! It’s like an anime! Just like…” Immediately, she peeled off into another infamous tangent, excitedly going through the plot of three different shows, none of which he’d seen, though the one with tentacles was definitely something he’d have to check out. Still, he spaced on the majority of it, letting her go till he raised a hand to interrupt.

“yeah, gunna need you to _reel_ it in, ‘dyne. i can work with, whatever you just said.” Plunking himself down on the bed, the springs squeaked a little and for a brief moment Papyrus was self-conscious, dropping his hoodie waist to pool around his waist.

Undyne fidgeted, worrying the edge of her untucked shirt as she shifted her weight, unsure to whether to keep standing or sit. She looked ready to run before he flashed her a disarming grin.

“gotta get your girl in the mood, fishcakes.”

“I know that!” Undyne let go of her shirt and folded her arms tightly. “This isn’t the first time we’ve-- we’ve-- we’ve.”

“okay, stay with me ‘dyne.”

“Right. Um…” Her gaze dropped fractionally, focusing on his clothed sternum. “Can I… t-touch it?”

“you touched it plenty of times in college.”

“That was then! I… we haven’t, I mean, I haven’t since then.”

“touched a dick?”

“Not a real one.”

“always _pegged_ you for a both sides of the cave kind of monster.” With fingers itching for a cigarette, Papyrus sighed and flopped backwards, scotching himself back until he laid flat. Tugging his hoodie back up to his ribs, he gave a vague awkwardly twisted gesture toward himself. “go for it. you’ve a one hundred percent got my permission to touch me. if there’s something i don’t like, i’ll tell you. and you do the same.”

Wringing her hands, Undyne clicked her nails together before slowly inching her way forward until she pressed a knee on the edge of the bed between spread femurs. Settling her weight lightly as if she was ready to bolt at any moment, the determined focus settled into a fierce staring contest with the smooth white bone of his pelvis. They had a translucent, almost pearlescent glow to them and it struck her as oddly reassuring her bestie was comfortable enough to share this part of him with her.

“it’s not going to bite you,” he teased.

“C-can you make it b-bigger?” She asked quietly, leaning forward a little more and she settled a trembling hand on his femur. “Is it responsive to your magical reserves o-or is there a present limitation? Oh!” Her gaze brightened, a honey glow reflecting in her glasses. “Can you make it into different shapes or is it strictly phallic? What about--?”

“focus ‘dyne, we can make dick animals another time.” He folded his hands over his sternum to keep them from tapping impatiently, his nerve wavering a little. They’d messed around a few times in college, mostly drunkenly but when sober both realized they weren’t cut out for each other. They were much better friends and time, patience and resets had only made them stronger. 

Staring up at the ceiling, he quelled the urge to jump as lightly calloused fingers wrapped around his cock. They were an old, familiar warmth, tingling with magic that bordered on the edge of a little too tight. Undyne hadn’t changed. She stroked experimentally, keeping her grasp firm running from base to tip and down back again with little variation.

“ease up,” he muttered and immediately the fingers were skimming across his magic, thumb trailing along the underside, until a claw caught on the edge of his cock’s head and elicited a startled jerk and a hiss at the flick of pain.

“Sorry,” she murmured, eyes fixated as she scooted closer, sweeping the pad of her thumb across the top, pressing against the weeping tip.

Her hands were rougher then he expected from a scientist, though his friend hardly fit into a single mold. He’d seen her bench press an entire table once in a moment of blind panic after a lab experiment failed during one of their midterms. She’d been only mildly surprised afterwards and more embarrassed at the spectacle. His cock twitched in her grip. Guess he was learning new things about himself every day.

“don’t you clip your nails?” He felt the toy rub against his thigh, brushing lightly with each movement, matching the more confident strokes as he relaxed, losing the tension from his shoulders and spine as the warmth of her hand spread to his pelvic inlet.

“On my other hand.” Briefly the hand lifted from his leg and hovered in his line of sight, the distinctly shorter nails prominent as she wiggled them in defense.

“only two?”

“I only need two.”

Papyrus grinned, letting his eye sockets close. “that’s kinda hot. al’s a lucky monster.”

Undyne’s movements paused before she speed up. “D-do you really think so?”

“course i do, ‘dyne and i’m not just saying that cause giving me a decent handy.” Undyne’s laughter while nervous, wasn’t as self deprecating as it usually was. “you’re smart and generous and a great big nerd, fanatical b-but,” his breath hitched as Undyne’s hand palmed the top of his cock before sliding back down and felt a soft caress against the folds of his previously neglected pussy. “in a good way,” he exhaled.

Undyne wasn’t joking when she said she only needed two fingers. A tremor ran up his spine at the teasing thumb circling his clit and folds and he missed the quick lick of fingers before one slipped inside, gentle and unhurried before slipping out to sweep across his slit, teasing little strokes and circling his entrance.

“like that,” Papyrus sighed, hitching his hips as the warmth coaxed into a kindling fire that had his toes curling. He curled a hand in the sheet beside him, rhythmically rolling into his friend’s hands as his magic twitched with pleasure. A finger slid into him again, slickness making it easier than the first time and pumped easily before curling up. He ground down, the end of his sigh ending in a purr. He could be a patient monster when he wanted, letting Undyne take the reigns as she gained her confidence, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it either.

“It’s so lifelike,” he heard Undyne say and he gave a single huff of laughter.

“’m a greedy bitch,” he repeated, words coming out in a low growl as he urged her to go faster. “harder, mmm yeah.” Magic glowed along his joints, alight them both as the sounds of their breathing and the slick noises between them filled the silence.

Undyne added a second finger, feeling him squeeze the digits and worked them cautiously, finding Pap was more than ready. She’d have to look into ecto magic and the malleable properties of it, how it was linked exactly to skeletal anatomy and emotional and physical effects at a later date, filing that away for later. His cock was hard in her hand, throbbing in time to his soul. “That was quick.”

“heey,” Papyrus cracked open one socket.

“I-I didn’t mean that was a bad thing!”

“kiddin’ ya,” he slurred back, arching his back. “’m ready now. you wanna start with something easy, like missionary?”

She nodded silently, removing her hands to crawl further up on the bed, nudging herself between her friend’s legs until she was pressed against him, the bottom length of her harnessed toy pressed against his folds and cock. A skeletal hand wrapped around his cock, pumping a few times while she used his slick to coat the toy as by his muttered instructions.

Gripping the base of her dildo, Undyne guided it carefully to the glistening entrance and faltered. “I…”

“i got you fishcakes.” Papyrus propped himself up on one elbow and spread the lips of his pussy, catching his clit with the tip of a phalanage and offering an unobstructed and inviting view. “nice and easy, watch your partner’s reaction.” Undyne nodded quickly. “gotta use your words, ‘dyne.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “But, what if I-?”

“you’re not going to hurt me, okay? you made sure i was prepped and i gave the okay. when it doubt, talk.”

“Okay.” Undyne repeated, sounding more sure of herself. “Thanks Pap.”

“what are friends for?”

“Apparently fucking.” She deadpanned, blush growing bolder at the snort. Making sure she was balanced on her knees , Undyne pushed the head of the dildo in. She really had to give Papyrus his due props, he really knew how to make a pretty pussy. Mesmerized at the translucency, she watched the shadow of blue stretch the honey orange magic and stilled at the quiet groan. Snapping her gaze up, she thumbed his clit and studied her friend’s skull, a soft orange gracing his cheekbones as he dropped his head. Carefully she pushed in a little more and waited.

“i’m not going to break,” Papyrus sighed, hand leisurely returning to his cock as the toy pressed a little more in before sliding out, relighting his dwindling spark with a low heat. Undyne had been adventurous in choosing the size of her toy, something a beginner shouldn’t start with but Al was a girthy monster and would no doubt be able to take it. Him however, it was a little but of a _stretch_ , but he could take it. The last thing he wanted to do was call timeout and send his friend into a panicked worry fit.

At the second sweep, Undyne had apparently found a little more courage and pressed in eagerly, invoking a delicious burn. She maintained a steady, simple pace, too slow for him to actually get off to but enough to want more. Her insistent toying with his clit sent little jolts through him, keeping him very wanting. He bucked against her as silent encouragement.

“angle your hips up,” he pressed and Undyne shifted and Papyrus moaned, arching into the bed as the toy brushed against a sensitive part of his magic. Too bad she couldn’t feel his walls clench hungrily around it. He dragged his knees inward, caging narrow clothed hips.

Oh, that was an ego booster. Striving to make those sounds again, Undyne leaned forward to rest a hand on the bed side him and switched to long, deep strokes that make her thighs burn with the effort but hearing the chocked response was worth it. The hazy orange magic brightened even more, becoming more vibrant and the bed creaked with each dip.

“Does the brilliance,” Undyne puffed, “of your magic, indicate heightened arousal?” She grunted, glasses slipping down her nose. “Or simple use?”

“both,” Papyrus panted, “but it’s less, mmm, sexy when i’m the one throwing a bone.”

“Paaaap,” she drew his name out, so terribly disappointed and punctuated it with a rougher thrust that grazed the back of his magic.

He inhaled sharply and exhaled in a satisfying deep groan. “do that again.”

And Undyne complied out of common decency, knowing this was going straight into her friend fiction. It might even find it’s way, anonymously with changed names, on the local interweb fictional writing site. Only the most steamiest of chapters ever made it up, amassing quite the following.

Confidence at an all time high, she shifted back and pulled out of Papyrus with a slick sound. He gave a discontented grunt and allowed himself to be dragged to his feet, standing unsteadily. She kept a hand on his hip, not wanting him to fall nor wander too far.

“Sorry Pap, I want to t-t-try a new position.” Plopping down on to the edge of the bed, she urged her friend to sit backwards in her lap.

Taking the hint, he sank down on the toy, lower spine poking her as he leaned forward to rest hands on her knees for support. “oh fuck,” he muttered, dropping his head as he rocked his hips experimentally, Undyne letting him take his time. The toy brushed against all new hidden deep spots that had him seeing stars. Fingers curled around his ilium crests, unconsciously kneading little soothing circles that made him relax. “fucking… deep.”

“Too much?” She whispered back and got a slow shake of a skull as a reply. “Tell me, Pap.”

“no.” It was a simple answer, void of anything but desperation. “i’m good,” he added hastily before rising up and sinking down under his own weight, letting gravity do most of the work as he slid back down on the blue toy. The color was doing a lot of things to him and he jolted, tightening as his imagination got the better of him and his accompanying thick moan rang of nothing but desire. His own cocked bounced freely with his movements, dribbling translucent magic as he moved faster.

Undyne was content with a few shallow thrusts before Papyrus took over and her hands hovered over the curved ilium, unsure of where to put them. She followed his movements and rhythm before hitching upward to meet him and a shudder ran through him. She wrapped a hand around his spine for balance, grazing the lower most ribs as he ground back hard. Her other hand back behind her in the rumpled sheets to keep from sliding further back as she shifted her hips, letting her friend ride her.

She wasn’t sure she could manage this position with Alphy’s tail, unless she laid back and let the warrior ride her completely. Or crush her. Not that she was opposed to that idea, the enticing pressure slowly smothering her as the strong warrior bucked against her, hips rutting mindlessly in search of release. Would Alphie moan hoarsely, cursing under her breath and hiss with pleasure.

“What about…?” Undyne trailed off before gathering herself to stand, forcing Papyrus up and he gasped at the shift, nearly stumbling forward when the scientist caught him around the chest. The slick toy still buried in him, she walked him forward a few wobbling steps and he gave a shuddery moan as he was repositioned to lean over the nearby desk. This would work.

Paperwork fluttered to the floor, forgotten as he gripped the edge, splayed out until his sternum pressed against chewed pencils and bent folders. Undyne pushed into him again, the toy moving effortlessly into his slick pussy and he was shoved flush, giving him little room to move around and take what she gave him. He was going to have to her applaud her afterwards for taking control. It’d rock the royal guard’s world to see her sky, nervous girlfriend take the lead.

Spreading his legs, he closed his eyes and rocked under her thrusts, pliant and willing as she tried different angles, reinvigorated by the different sounds she pulled from him. His cock was trapped between the desk and his hoodie, rolling against the rough texture, bordering on a pinching pain that was only adding to building waves of pleasure.

“harder,” he hissed as fingers dug into his hips and he shoved back, giving an appreciative sigh when she doubled her efforts, clothed thighs pressed against the back of his femurs. The desk rocked under them and at a pressure at his elbow had him twisting an arm back for her to grasp at his forearm for more leverage to pull him into her. His cunt throbbed around the toy, pulsing in warning of his approaching orgasm. “dyne,” he gasped, gritting his teeth as he forced himself to speak. “fuck, fuck! i’m gunna cum.”

“Do you want me to stop?” She asked, winded.

He whined in desperation. “shit, fuck, no, let me cum.” Pushing back, he stroked himself in time to her quickened pace, feeling the taunt, hot coil of pleasure snap, flooding his vision white. He came with a stuttered shout, coating his hand and hoodie in magic in sticky strands. Another wave of bliss, a second orgasm had him clamping down hard on the toy, leaving droplets of translucent honey to drip on the floor between his bare feet.

Breathing heavily, his ragged breath slowly subsided as he drifted. His skull still pressed against the mess of papers he could just make out blurry, scribbled equations and little hearts in blue and yellow pen marks in the side notes. It was a whole different kind of intense when he used more than one set of genitals and he realized he was trembling, his weight resting heavily on his ribs and felt the bite of the edge of the desk along his hips. A soft whimper slipped from him when Undyne shifted, still buried deep within his twitching mound and a hand clumsily petted his back.

Leaning up a little, Papyrus wiped his hand on the front of his already stained hoodie. If he was lucky, he could shove the ruined orange garment into the washing machine at home later without having to explain why.

Carefully, Undyne moved with him, her movements quiet as she slipped gently from him. “Are,” she sounded so far away from his post fucking bliss. “you okay? T-that wasn’t too much?” He gave her a thumbs up and she helped him to the bed, wary of his jelly legged stumble until he collapsed atop of it with a very appreciative groan.

“How did I do?”

He might have chuckled at the timid, nervous voice as if she hadn’t just been plowing him a minute ago. He rolled over with another groan, knowing he was going to be bruised tomorrow. “not bad for your first time. a for effort.” Undyne wilted. “relax, considering al’s staunch build, she can take it.”

“Thanks Pap.” At the beckoning skeletal hand, she hesitated before climbing into the bed beside him to lie on her back. Folding her hands across her stomach, she stared up at the ceiling and gave a long sigh, still wearing the harnessed toy.

Papyrus watched his magic drip from it, feeling like he’d seen more absurd things. “no problem.” He really could go for a cigarette right now, knowing Undyne wouldn’t mind him smoking in her lab again. “guess i was a real _bang_ for your buck.”

“I’m going to shove you off this bed,” she said flatly.

Papyrus grinned. “your foreplay needs work, al might swoon at the threat of violence though.” He made a vain attempt to duck when she tossed a pillow at his head and his muffled snicker made her grumble. “so, ready for round two?”

“Already? Does your magic rebound that fast?”

“greedy bitch.”

Undyne hummed. “Well, I’ve always wanted to try the starfish position.”


End file.
